


Empires

by LexyRomanova



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Romance, Sequel, Spiritual
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-01-31 13:31:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 65
Words: 401,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12682926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LexyRomanova/pseuds/LexyRomanova
Summary: Sequel to SAIL. After leaving Los Angeles, the pain and betrayals from the past behind, Vane and Eleanor's story in this new world is still far from over. Between new enemies, new allies and new places, fate still has a lot in store for the star crossed lovers. Will they be able to stick together and face all the challenges that will come after their new beginning?





	1. Trouble In Paradise

_This is set two months after the events of SAIL._

**Los Angeles**

His hand is cold in hers as she holds it to her pregnant belly, tears burning in her eyes.

"I said I was going to wait, but I couldn't resist anymore... I found out the gender today."

Her ex-husband's eyes remain closed and Sarah takes a deep, shaky breath, forcing a smile.

"It's a little boy, Woodes. Just like you always wanted. Don't you want to wake up in time to see your son being born?"

She has prayed and pleaded that he comes back from the coma so many times during the past couple of months, and though it never works, she still feels hopeful.

But as usual, the only response she gets is silence.

Mason brings a hand to her shoulder as she sits beside his brother's hospital bed, her tears winning.

This is not how she expected her pregnancy to go. She thought that finding out about their baby would be enough to make her ex-husband forget about that stupid blonde girl and go back to her.

She thought they were going to be a family.

But fate had other plans, and just as she was about to tell Woodes about their son, Mason found him unconscious in front of some shady nightclub, covered in blood, with broken bones and a ghastly cut on his left cheek.

And now here they are, suffering, while the person who did this to Woodes was free out there somewhere.

_It's frustrating._

"It's unfair." She says in a quiet voice, feeling the baby move. It seems he's also trying to get his daddy to wake up. "It's so, so unfair."

"I know. But soon, things will change. I promise."

She looks up at Mason's face, eyes darkening with hatred. "Where is Eleanor?"

"Why?"

"She was his fiancée! She didn't come check up on him, not even  _once_ , and now she's suddenly gone from the city. Don't you find this strange?"

He considers her for a moment, as if making a decision, before finally sighing heavily. "I will tell you something. But I need you to keep quiet about it, alright? It's police business, and they can't know that I told you about this."

She nods immediately, tears stopping for now.

"A few days before I found my brother in front of the Demeter, he... had the brilliant idea to take Miss Guthrie to our mansion, against her will. Apparently, she was seeing another man, and he was blind with rage. But one night someone sounded the fire alarm. And when my brother ran to the room where he was keeping her, she was gone. Someone busted the window and got her out."

"Her lover."

"It was this man, Sarah. He's the one who put him in a coma. It can't be anyone else."

"And he ran away, with Eleanor."

Mason nods, jaw clenched. "His name is Charles. We were able to... get this information from someone, before all that hell broke loose."

"And what are you waiting for? Why aren't you looking for this monster?"

He looks at his comatose brother, shaking his head. "I don't want to take this away from him. He has to be awake to see this man behind bars. He needs to be there. To see Eleanor's face when we take her precious criminal away from her."

"And what about the little blonde bitch?"

His eyes widen briefly. He never heard Sarah speak like this before.

She was always so docile.

"It will be up to Woodes to decide her fate. I imagine he will be really angry with her, once he wakes up. We will make her pay too. Don't worry."

Sarah stares at his face for a few seconds, eyes still dark. Her surprising, sudden thirst for revenge amazes him.

"Good." She says, still holding his brother's unmoving hand to her baby bump. "Good."

* * *

**Nassau, Bahamas**

Eleanor opens her eyes slowly, morning light filtering in through the cracks in the short curtains that cover the line of windows in their cabin. She hears the commotion on the deck, Jack's voice and a few other unfamiliar ones.

They're here.

And of course, the captain is still sound asleep.

_Typical._

She's unable to stop smiling as she watches the naked pirate sleeping by her side, laying on his stomach with his heavy arm draped over her bare belly, red nail marks all over his back, as if replacing those awful scars from the past life.

With a shake of her head, Eleanor moves to kiss his ear shell, bringing her hand to his hair.

He stirs, sea-blue eyes opening lazily.

Her smile widens.

"Morning."

Ignoring the shivers she always gets from  _this_  voice, Eleanor glances up at the wooden ceiling.

"Your 'recruits' are here. Jack's taking care of them for now, it seems. But I heard Anne yell at one of them already. She sounded stressed."

A smirk tugs at the right corner of his lips, his arm tightening around her middle.

"They're probably pissed. You were so loud last night, I'm sure they didn't get much sleep."

His tone is teasing. He does this a lot.

With a raised eyebrow, Eleanor moves closer while he lays on his side. "Oh, I was the loud one?"

She lets him pull her to his chest, one leg moving between her thighs as he kissed her slowly, thumbs caressing her side and back.

The fire soon starts to burn between them, a soft moan leaving her lips when Charles covers her body with his, teeth attacking her sensitive neck.

But just as he begins to nip and lick his way down her chest and stomach, someone knocks on their door.

"Can I expect you to come out anytime today, or do I need to tell all these brutes on deck to come back tomorrow?" Jack's voice reaches their ears and she lets out a brief chuckle, although a bit bummed that they were interrupted.

But she also has stuff to take care of today.

"Just go. We'll have the whole night." Eleanor says, pressing a kiss to his lips as she sits up on their bunk. He rolls his eyes, patting her scarred thigh before getting to his feet.

She watches him get ready, trying not to smile too much. Only after she's alone in their cabin does she get up, walking to her dresser and choosing a plaid, red skirt and a grey blouse.

Now she mostly wears these outfits resembling the ones from the past. It makes her feel better.

And  _free_.

Once ready for the day, Eleanor walks the empty corridors in silence, trying not to feel uncomfortable when she emerges on the deck and all eyes come to her.

Their journey to Somalia is coming. They needed more sailors if they wanted to make it there. It takes more than four people to handle this ship.

And somehow, Charles managed to reunite only the shadiest men in the Island, of course. She suspects none of them has a clean past.

But maybe it's better this way, considering they were going to a place filled with outlaws.

Her own criminal is already shirtless, she notices, displaying the nail marks on his back and shoulders proudly for all these idiots to see.

The urge to roll her eyes is so damn strong.

_Men._

She intended to just get out of the ship quietly, but he calls her to his side.

And she goes to him with a raised chin.

"Of all the rules I mentioned, this is the most important one. If any of you touches this woman, you better be prepared to lose your head."

Anne scoffs, leaning against the helm behind them. Meeting Charles' eyes, Eleanor sees something flickering in the blue depths before he faces the men again.

"One more thing. I know many of you may have committed crimes like this before, and I don't give a damn. But while under my command, know that I forbid you from raping a woman. Such an act would be punished with death."

Her heart almost stops.

She knows why he said that.

He was thinking of her. Of Anne.

Of  _Max_.

Glancing over her shoulder, she sees the redhead lowering her eyes, a haunted look on her face while Jack watched her closely. Her eyes return to Charles' face and he meets them briefly, jaw clenched.

He wanted to make sure the past wouldn't repeat itself.

To make sure Anne and her wouldn't have to see this again.

_God, she loves him._

With a soft smile, she gives his hand a squeeze and leaves the ship, aware of the few more brave men that stare at her as she walks.

Poor bastards.

They will learn a few lessons soon.

Flint is waiting for her at the pier, eyes filled with concern as he stares at the Ranger, shaking his head, disapproval written all over his face.

"I see his idea of a decent crew is still just as twisted."

She shrugs, greeting him with a brief kiss to the cheek. "Some things never change."

"Will you be safe with all those imbeciles on board?" Her father figure asks as they walk, and she smirks at him.

"He already made it clear that if someone touches me, death will follow."

"Some things definitely never change. At least he's good for something."

Eleanor chuckles at his words, and they walk in silence to the bar near the harbor.

"You okay?" He asks when they pause in front of the establishment, and she takes a deep breath.

"Yeah. Let's go."

It's the second time she sees it. Her beloved tavern is gone, the unfamiliar place making her heart break as they walk to a counter at the back of it, where a bored-looking young man cleans a few glasses.

She wastes no time with pleasantries.

"I heard this place is for sale. And I am interested."

He looks at her from head to toe, unabashedly checking her out, and she thanks God that Charles isn't here. If he was, they would have a dead body to dispose of.

"Well that's too bad. The owner sold it already. It's our last day."

Her heart sinks.

But she forces a smile and walks out the door, not wanting a stranger to see her pain.

"Maybe it's better like this. You can just start fresh."

Eleanor sighs heavily, eyes glued to the bay. "I should have come as soon as I heard. I didn't want this place just because of the tavern. But because of the location. I can see the Ranger from here. It would be perfect."

Flint considers bringing one reassuring hand to her shoulder, but then she's walking again, walls coming back up. "Let's just go get some breakfast. Can I go to your place after? These men will spend the whole day on the ship, getting familiar with her, and I don't want to see them anymore today."

Her father figure smiles at her, nodding briefly. "I was just about to suggest that."

* * *

**Somalia**

Her big blue eyes shine with excitement while Davina stares at the sea from the window, much to her adoptive mother's amusement.

"Staring at the ocean all day long won't make your brother leave Nassau faster, baby girl."

"When is he leaving, mama?"

Mary sighs, watching as her cousin walked down the stairs. "He's still getting a crew together, sweetie. It will probably take a while."

"I want to see him. And Eleanor, and the Ranger." The child complains, and Billy chuckles at Mary's distress.

"She's so crazy about wooden ships, that I'm almost going to Teach to ask him if he can take her sailing on the Revenge one day."

A gasp comes from Davina. "Can you do that, mama?"

Mary rubs her forehead. "I was kidding, baby. I wouldn't dare to do something like that. Just wait for your brother and the Ranger, alright?"

She huffs adorably and Billy clears his throat. "I need to talk to your mom, little one. Go play in your room."

The nine year old narrows her eyes at him, clearly interested to hear what conversation they were going to have.

"I'll take you to the beach tomorrow. I heard The Revenge will be in the bay."

Her face lights up immediately and she nods, rushing up the stairs.

"No running on the stairs, Davina! And clean your room!" Mary calls out but she's already out of their sight.

Just as incorrigible as her big brother.

Mary shakes her head, facing her cousin and leaning against the wall. "What is it?"

"I overheard a... disturbing conversation last night, while I waited at the door to Teach's office."

Her heart skips a beat. She glances at the staircase, making sure Davina was really gone.

"What conversation?"

"You should warn your former lover. Teach was talking to someone, he said that once the ship arrives, he needs men ready to search every inch of it. He said it's a safety measure, that even though Charles is his long lost nephew, he still needs to ensure the safety of the pirates. So he wants to make sure the newcomers won't bring problems with them. But I know that these are not his only intentions."

"Eleanor." Mary speaks and he nods.

"More than once, he said he hopes his nephew won't bring any... unwanted people with him. And I know he's talking about this woman. So I want you to warn him. I'm sure that, like me, you don't want violence so close to Davina. What we do in the ocean is one thing, it's far. But if Charles brings that woman here, things will get ugly. And Davina will most likely end up seeing or hearing something. We can't take that risk."

Mary sighs heavily, feeling a headache coming on.

Just what they needed.

"What's going on here, what is their past?" Her cousin asks and she shrugs.

"That's what I would like to know. When I went to LA, I was told Charles met Eleanor this year. But it's just so strange. Teach clearly has some sort of grudge against her, and it seems so deep. So old. But how's it possible? I can't help but feel as if there's much we don't know. Like this is merely the tip of the iceberg. There's a whole story here that we're not aware of. I feel that much has happened, but I don't know why Charles and the others keep it from me."

"Whatever it is, they must have a good reason. And it's none of our concern. What we need to focus on right now is our little girl. You have to contact Charles and warn him. We need to do our best to avoid violence near her."

Mary nods at his words, eyeing her cellphone on the table. "And if we have no success?"

Billy glances at the staircase and shrugs briefly. "Then we get Davina and run like hell."

* * *

Flint watches Eleanor closely while she clenches her jaw hard, listening to what her lover was saying on the phone.

She glances at her father figure and rolls her eyes before finally snapping. "It's final, Charles. I am  _not_  going. I didn't want to before, but after seeing your new crew-"

_"It will break Davina's heart if you don't go!"_

"Then just bring her here! You could bring her to spend some time here in Nassau with us. She's your sister, you have that right. And if Mary is too opposed to the idea of being away from her, she could come too. There's room on the ship for both of them. It's okay, I wil stay with Flint while you're away."

_"Do you ever get tired of being a pain in the ass?"_

She ignores his words. "Just go take care of your new dogs, I will be back by nightfall."

She ends the call before he even has time to reply.

"He will end up getting you killed." Flint tells her as they sit on his couch. She sees the concern flickering in his eyes. And also the anger. "He talked so much about Rogers, about how he put you in harm's way, and now he's about to do the exact same thing."

"No, he's not. Because I'm not going to Somalia."

"You think he will give up so easily?"

Eleanor shrugs, smoothing out the wrinkles in her skirt. "If he fights, I fight back. Just like I always did."

Her father figure can't contain his little smirk. "How in the world are you two managing to spend every night in the same cabin without killing each other?"

"If you ever find out what's the answer to that question, tell me. I want to know too."

His smirk suddenly vanishes, and for a moment he seems reluctant, awkward.

It's a strange sight.

"How are... things going, by the way? Is it too bad?"

Eleanor narrows her eyes at him. "Are you  _seriously_  asking me about my relationship?"

He shrugs, deciding to hide behind a smart retort. "Someone needs to occupy Scott's place while he's not around."

His words cause her to laugh, though her heart clenches. She misses Scott so fucking much. This is the longest she's been away from him in this life, and Eleanor doesn't like it one bit.

"It's not as bad as I expected. We fight, of course, but mostly over stupid stuff. The most serious fights we have are because of the Somalia thing. He's adamant that I go." She sighs heavily, rubbing her forehead. Flint sees the way she clenches her jaw briefly.

"Three hundred years later, and Teach is  _still_  causing me problems."

"Even if you don't go..." Flint begins, not breaking eye contact. "...how long do you think we can hide your existence from him? This situation is complicated on so many levels, Eleanor. Vane goes to Somalia and sees his uncle, alright, but what happens next? What if Teach eventually decides to come back with him?"

She shakes her head. "From what I heard, he has a huge empire over there. He won't leave everything behind."

He rubs his chin, mind racing, and she scowls at his next words. "Every king needs an heir."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, you know exactly what I mean. And you need to think about this. You and I both know his uncle will try to keep him there. He will offer him tempting possibilities, and once again Vane will find himself face to face with a familiar choice to make."

She lowers her eyes to her lap, a scowl not leaving her face as Flint continues to talk. "The moment will come when he will be forced to choose between you and Teach. It will be inevitable. Do you think the two of you have already shared enough to right the wrongs of the past? It's the only way to assure that Vane will make the same choice from three centuries ago, when the time comes. So tell me... Is the past truly dead and buried? Or is there any bad blood left between the two of you?"

She sighs heavily. "I don't know."

Flint watches her face for a few seconds, his expression unreadable. "Then I suggest you start to take care of this. And soon."

* * *

Her heart is still heavy when Eleanor silently walks the pier in the dark of the night, eyes glued to the ship.

A brief smile tugs at her lips. She will miss her.

During the last two months, she's been growing more and more fond of the Ranger, and now she understands Charles' rage when anyone refers to her as "it". She never thought she'd get this weird habit sailors had, to see their ships almost like living, breathing beings.

Now she understands just how deep this connection is.

If only she knew this three centuries ago, she probably would have thought twice before taking such an important thing from Charles.

_Or maybe not._

A sigh leaves her lips as she walks the gangplank, greeting Jack with a short nod as he stood near the bow with a smoking Anne. He nods back, only to receive a glare from the little brute while Eleanor climbs down the ladder, not wanting to walk the dark corridors in order to reach the captain's quarters.

"Have you eaten? Maybe we could-" She trails off, the dark look on Charles' face making her shiver.

And not in the good way.

"What happened?"

He's sitting at his desk, his phone in front of him as he silently gestures for her to come closer.

"Mary called me two hours ago." He says, pulling her into his lap.

"Is Davina okay?"

"It wasn't about my sister."

She frowns, her eyes going from concerned to cold.

"Teach?"

His silence is the only confirmation she needs.

"He plans on searching every inch of the ship when we arrive."

"For me."

His eyes remain glued to his phone, one of his hands going to the gun resting just beside it on the desk.

She expected him to tell her that she should just stay behind. But he doesn't, and each second of his silence makes her rage burn even stronger.

"After  _this_ , it's clear that I can't go."

He clenches his jaw, meeting her eyes. "You  _are_  going."

"Do you want to get me killed?"

"When the hell did you become such a drama queen?"

She scoffs in disbelief, getting off his lap and crossing her arms. "You think I'm being  _dramatic_? Because I don't want to go to a man who's thirsty for my blood, how does  _that_  make me a drama queen?"

"Maybe if you put just a little bit of faith in me-"

"You're asking me to trust you with my  _life_  without any hesitation, as if we're living some sort of silly fairytale? As if you're a knight in shining armor who will keep me safe no matter what?"

His eyes are dark with hatred while he stares at her. Flint's words from earlier echo in her mind and she struggles to get a hold of her temper.

"Charles, I  _know_  you will always do your very best to keep me safe. I know you will always  _try_  to protect me. I have no doubt about that. But... What I can't do is act like some irrational teenager, believing you will always succeed." She walks over to sit on their bunk, shaking her head. "Life isn't a movie. There is no guarantee that you will be able to save me if Teach tries anything. No guarantee at all. And I can not take such a risk. I just can't."

He sighs heavily, getting up from his chair and heading to one of the windows. She clings to the hope that he's starting to see reason.

_No such luck._

"Just come with us."

Her temper flares. "Did you  _listen_  to a word I just said? Why is this so fucking important to you?"

He just clenches his jaw, eyes glued to the window.

How she hates when he does that.

"Just learn to deal with the fact that you won't have anyone to warm your bed during this journey. Because I will stay here with Flint and it's final."

"You think that's what this is about?" He turns around, stalking over to the bunk with an indignant look on his face. She doesn't back down. "You think I'm this upset because I won't have someone to  _fuck_  every night?"

"Then why are you acting like this?" Eleanor asks while he makes his way to the desk again. "At least be honest with me so we can try and talk about this, like two civilized people."

He scoffs, muttering something under his breath. It sounds like " _civilized my ass_ ".

And Eleanor has had enough.

"Alright. Don't talk to me. Just know that when you and your new men sail away from this Island, I will not be on your ship, but safe and sound at Flint's new house."

He gives her a sharp look.

It's all it takes.

"You once asked me how I could be so smart and so fucking stupid at the same time, well, now I'm asking you the same thing. How can you expect anything good to come out of this? Taking me to see  _him_? Do you have any idea what he would do to me? It's infuriating, you keep thinking that you can play with danger like this, that I won't be harmed by your actions, because you're just so fucking confident!" Her voice is rising with each word she says, anger making her speak without really thinking first. "Can't you see? You are acting  _just like_   _Woodes_!"

As soon as the words leave her mouth, Eleanor regrets them deeply.

But it's too late.

He immediately meets her eyes, clearly outraged. But she sees the pain written all over his face too.

Eleanor shakes her head, getting to her feet to close the distance between them. " _Shit_ \- Charles, I didn't mean-"

"Of course you didn't." His sarcastic, bitter tone makes her stop on her tracks.

His eyes are cold as he grabs a bottle of rum from their cabinet and storms out of the cabin, slamming the door so hard that for a moment she worries it will fall off its hinges.

Eleanor lets out a shaky breath, clenching her jaw and punching the desk with all the strength she could muster.

Only to cry out in pain.

Holding her aching hand to her chest, she slowly makes her way back to the bunk.

" _Fuck_ , what have I done?"

* * *

When seven hours pass and there's still no sign of him, Eleanor finally closes her tired eyes, rolling onto her stomach on the bunk. She actually swallowed her pride and went up on deck a couple hours ago in search of Charles. But he was nowhere to be seen.

So she went to knock on the door of Jack and Anne's cabin to see if they knew anything.

Because she searched the whole ship, and concern was beginning to get the best of her.

Jack told her that Charles left with Anne to go drink God knows where right after their fight.

"You heard us?" She asked, receiving a scoff from the man as a response.

"Eleanor, the _whole Island_  heard you two." He said with a raised eyebrow, and she could see he was worried too.

After that she dragged herself back to the captain's quarters, considering the idea of drinking too.

But it wouldn't be wise. If she was drunk when he came back, another fight could erupt.

So she decided to just read a book, going up the ladder every 10 minutes or so to take a look at the harbor and beach, checking for any signs of the two drunk savages.

And her heart sank every time.

At around 4 in the morning she finally decided to close her book and go to bed.

She's so fucking tired, and concern is taking her over, a million thoughts running through her mind.

What if something happens?

These two are as unstable and unpredictable as the sea during a storm, and it's even worse when they're together.

And  _drunk_.

To make things even worse, Jack told her they took the motorcycle.

What if they suffer an accident?

Hell, what if they kill someone?

She and Jack could receive a call in the morning, the person on the other side of the line telling them that Charles and Anne were in jail.

Or in the hospital.

Or even the morgue.

Her blood runs cold and she tries to banish the macabre thoughts from her mind. It's not the first time these two go drinking together. If something was supposed to happen, it would have already, a long time ago.

_Right?_

After letting out a heavy sigh, she tries breathing softly, wanting,  _needing_  some sleep desperately.

But shortly after she finally slips into unconsiousness, a familiar, dreadful scenario begins to play right in front of her eyes. One she has not seen in a while.

Eleanor is crying in her sleep, trembling as the man she loves steps off that cart, that damn rope strangling him mercilessly.

And as his body spasms, the door to the cabin slamming shut makes her wake up with a start.

Coming back from the horrible nightmare, she doesn't move, listening to his heavy, somewhat clumsy footsteps as her heart beats frantically in her chest.

But she's also filled with relief.

He's back, and just in time to save her from her horror without even knowing it.

Maybe he  _is_  a knight in shining armor, after all.

And he's  _alive_.

_He's okay._

She's laying on her right side, facing the wooden wall that touches her side of the bunk, and he probably thinks she's asleep.

After she hears him discard his clothes, the footsteps begin to sound closer and closer until she feels the mattress dip under his weight. For some time, he just sits there. And though she's not looking at him, she can feel his eyes on her.

Eleanor holds her breath as he brings one hand to her head, caressing her hair softly before his fingers linger on her cheek.

Her heart flutters and Charles sighs heavily, finally laying down by her side.

After a few moments she rolls onto her left side, watching as he laid on his back, staring up at the wooden ceiling.

He doesn't meet her eyes.

But he doesn't try to move away either, when she snuggles into his chest.

"I'm sorry." She speaks in a quiet tone, fingers tracing invisible patterns on his abdomen. "You're not him. You will  _never_  be him. I just let my anger get the best of me-"

"Stay."

She frowns at his slurred voice, glancing at his face.

"You mean..."

He nods, still refusing to meet her eyes. "You were right. It's too dangerous. Just wait here with Flint."

A soft smile tugs at her lips.

She doesn't say anything.

"I have something to show you. In the city."

Eleanor barely understands what he's saying.

"Just get some sleep for now, okay? It can wait until you're sober."

He gives her a grunt of annoyance. But all signs of hostility fade away as she presses a kiss to his chest, then other to his birthmark, before meeting his eyes.

"You always tell Jack and Anne that I'm second in command whenever you are in no condition to take care of stuff yourself. Well, this moment clearly matches that description." He rolls his eyes, holding her closer. "So now, I am giving you an  _order_. Go. To. Sleep."

He stares at her face in clear indignation, but soon a wicked glint comes to his eyes. "Will you punish me if I don't?"

Eleanor scoffs in disbelief.

He's impossible.

She breaks eye contact, burying her face in his neck. "I  _really_  hope you will have the most horrible hangover."

He grumbles a " _why_?", and soon after that she notices he's out like a light.

Slowly, she looks at his face again, admiring the now peaceful features, fingers reaching to caress his left cheek.

"For making me worry so fucking much about you..." Eleanor says quietly before pressing a soft kiss to his dry lips and hiding her face in his chest. "...you bastard."

She's asleep in a matter of seconds.

And now that Charles' arms are safely around her, there are no signs of the nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. First chapter and they're already fighting?
> 
> Yep, some things never change.
> 
> For those who think it's strange that Charles was insisting on taking her to Somalia despite the obvious danger, his hidden motives will be explained in the next chapter.
> 
> And I'm not sure yet if this is the definitive title. I may change it later... But if it stays this way, later on you will understand why I chose to call the sequel "Empires" ;)


	2. Free Slaves

Charles is staring at her face when she opens her eyes, and Eleanor wonders how much he remembers from the previous night.

If he remembers about how they sort of reconciled after he stumbled back to their cabin. Probably yes, since he presses a kiss to her forehead, sighing briefly.

"What did you want to show me in the city?"

The criminal lets go of her, getting to his feet and heading over to his desk where he left his brown leather jacket. Eleanor watches him rummage through the garment's pockets until a clinking sound reaches her ears.

A smirk tugs at his lips. But he doesn't show her his secret little metallic object and she narrows her eyes in suspicion.

"What, is it a ring?"

An indignant look comes to his face. "Fuck, no. You know me. Just be patient, for once in you life. You'll know in two days time. And I promise it will be worth the wait."

She rolls her eyes, shaking her head. "Just tell me already."

"You're allowed to keep little secrets and make a surprise, and I'm not? Just wait. It won't kill you."

Eleanor sighs heavily, sitting up and watching as he got ready for the day - or what was left of it anyway.

Just before Charles climbs up the ladder, he looks at her with a half smirk.

"No hangover, by the way."

A scoff leaves her lips as he disappears up the hatch door.

_Idiot._

* * *

**_Havana_ **

**_31 years ago_ **

_Naomi Teach never thought this would happen to her._

_She never thought she'd get pregnant at just 15 years old... And that the father of the child would refuse to help her._

_"How could you let this happen? How far along are you?"_

_He's 6 years older than her. Her brother never approved of their relationship._

_"Almost five months... That's why I have been avoiding you, I was scared."_

_"Naomi, if only you told me sooner, we could have taken care of that thing! Now it's too late, it would be dangerous for you-"_

_"That **thing**?" Her eyes are filled with outrage. And tears. "He's our son! I thought you would be supportive, it's bad enough already that Edward barely even talks to me ever since I told him I was pregnant!"_

_"How could you have been so stupid? I could have helped you, now what? You think you're fit to raise a child? Look at the life you and your brother lead!" He runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head at her. His accent is even thicker due to the anger. She was never able to find out where is it from. "You will give it up for adoption. And then our lives will go back to normal."_

_Naomi looks at him in disbelief, both hands coming to her baby bump protectively. "He's **my**  baby.  **I**  will raise him, with or without you, Lorenzo. No one will take him away from me."_

_He just scoffs at her, taking one glance at her stomach. His eyes fill with disgust._

_"Have fun ruining your life then."_

_He turns his back to her and walks away._

_And the teen is somehow able to hold back her tears until she makes it home, collapsing on the couch and crying her eyes out while hugging her stomach._

_Naomi isn't sure how much time has passed, lost in her sorrow, until the front door opens._

_Her brother has a strange look on his face. A haunted look. It's almost as if he just found out about something really important._

_"Where were you?" She asks, wiping her tears away on her sleeve as he slowly makes his way over to the couch._

_"Spiritist house, with her." His eyes are glued to her stomach, his face filled with many different emotions._

_Strange. He's always so cold towards her unborn child._

_"What happened?"_

_Edward shakes his head, dropping to his knees beside the couch. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Naomi... Do you have a name for the boy already?"_

_She frowns at his words. "No. I can't think of any. I was hoping... Maybe you would want to help me with that?"_

_Her tone is cautious. And what her brother says next makes her jaw drop slightly._

_"I'm so sorry. From now on, I promise I will do everything I can for you and my nephew. I will help you raise him. And as for the name..." He brings his hands to her stomach, an almost imperceptible smile tugging at his lips. "Charles. Let's call him Charles."_

* * *

**Nassau, Bahamas**

**Present Days**

The two days have come and gone and Eleanor can't stop wondering what is it that Charles will show her in the city.

More than once, she tried searching the pockets of all his leather jackets for the mysterious metal object, with no success. He must have hidden it somewhere else.

Jack knows what he's up to, and she tried to get him to talk many times, curiosity getting the best of her. But he always kept his mouth shut.

So she's forced to wait, and that leaves her in a really sour mood.

To make things even worse, Charles told her that even Flint knows what he's planning. And when she tried to ask him, he just smirked at her.

She really wants to murder all of them.

Not even the sound of the waves and the night breeze makes her lose the unfriendly expression as she walks the pier with Charles. The time has finally come but she refuses to stop scowling.

And when they walk past the motorcycle, she meets his eyes in confusion.

"What, you're going to make me walk all the way? This town isn't exactly small anymore."

"Stop complaining. We're closer than you think."

She rolls her eyes, walking beside him. Her hand tries to reach inside his jacket's pocket in search of the mysterious object, but he grabs her wrist before lacing their fingers together, even though she tries to fight.

All the while, he never loses that  _infuriating_  half smirk of his.

And Eleanor tries to ignore the pain in her heart when they stop in front of a certain familiar place.

"Why did you bring me here, Charles?"

Her voice is strained and his eyes soften, hand reaching to brush her hair behind her ear.

"There's no one inside. The place is currently closed. I think it would be nice if we spent some time in there, for old times sake."

She sighs tiredly, shaking her head at his words. "So what, you're going to break into this bar just so I can have one last night in it before the new owners transform it into God knows what?"

He frowns, feigning confusion.

"Now why would I go all the trouble of breaking into the place..." He reaches inside his pocket, and Eleanor's eyes widen when he finally shows her the mysterious object. "...When I can simply use the key?"

She stares at it for a moment. Then at the door. Then at his face.

Her eyes glint with unshed tears as she shakes her head slightly. "No. It's  _not_  true. It's the key to another door. Any other door on this Island. Any other door but  _this one._ "

He just shrugs, handing the key to her. "See for yourself."

For a moment she stalls, staring at the object as if it was a venomous snake.

So Charles waits patiently.

And after what feels like an eternity, she violently snatches the key from his grasp, practically shoving it into the keyhole before turning the knob.

Eleanor stands frozen by his side as the door opens.

She doesn't say a word.

Her mouth remains parted, lower lip trembling slightly and eyes filled with tears while she walks inside, taking it all in. It's dark. And empty.

_A blank slate._

There's another room to the side, right where the office used to be, and she walks over to it, eyes moving over the mattress that rested in the middle of the room.

"You were the one who bought it?" She asks quietly, knowing Charles was right behind her. He doesn't say anything, just keeps watching her face closely as she turns around to meet his eyes. "For me?"

Apparently seeing her in such a fragile state is a weak spot of his.

One lone tear runs down her face while Charles closes the distance between them, crashing his lips to hers while pulling her flush against his body.

Just before her eyes fall closed, she notices he lit a candle. It's resting on the floor near the door and she briefly wonders where it came from. But all thought leaves her mind as his tongue caresses hers teasingly, rough hands moving lower until he's gripping her ass.

Pulling.

_Closer._

It's never enough.

"When the bartender said it was already sold..." She begins in a whisper when he moves his lips to her neck, sucking a mark on her skin. "...I thought this place was lost to me forever."

He leaves another bruise, and under normal circumstances she would roll her eyes. This is a habit he developed, something he does on purpose.

He just loves watching her distress as she puts on tons of makeup to hide hickeys from Flint, like a guilty teenager.

It's one of his joys.

But right now there's absolutely  _nothing_  he can do to piss her off.

"Did you  _really_  think I'd let that happen?" His husky voice is enough to make her shiver as he untucks her blouse from the skirt before pulling it over her head.

A soft chuckle leaves her lips as she frees him from his leather jacket and shirt too before glancing down at the mattress behind them.

"Best I could do." Charles says and she meets his eyes again, seeing that all too familiar challenging look. "Too uncivilized?"

Her heart flutters.

He knew she would probably want to spend the whole night in this place. So he went all the trouble of bringing a mattress here so she could be comfortable.

This man will never stop surprising her.

 _"How can you not bring yourself to fully trust him yet?"_  A voice asks in her head, and Eleanor has no decent answer for that question.

Probably because the answer doesn't exist.

Eleanor isn't really sure how it happens, but the next thing she knows is that they are both naked and her exposed skin touches the mattress before Charles pulls her into his lap.

She finally shakes her head in response to his previous question, starting to lower herself into his lap, teasingly slow.

"It's perfect."

His smug smirk makes her roll her eyes but then they fall closed as she finally stops teasing and takes in the last few inches, their bodies fully joined.

Their eyes meet while Charles brings his arms around her waist, holding her close, and for a brief moment there's peace.

Bu a wicked glint comes to Eleanor's eyes and this time she's the one who offers him a smug smirk before starting to move, up and down, hips rocking against his as she holds on tight to his shoulders for support.

His teeth soon attack her neck, scraping her warm skin before he bites hard, the way he knows she secretly loves, but will never admit out loud.

She picks up her pace in response, heart filling with love as he soothes the bite by caressing the mark from his teeth with his tongue, his hands moving to her ass to guide her movements. For a second Eleanor fights but it feels so fucking  _good_  that she decides to just let him help her with setting their pace, her mouth parting before a smile comes to her lips.

She kisses his forehead and he continues to do sinful things to her neck until she tugs on his hair, forcing him to meet her eyes. Pure adoration is written all over Charles' face as he brings one hand to her face, thumb resting over her lips. A groan leaves his throat when she receives his finger in her mouth, her tongue swirling around it suggestively while she watches his face through half-lidded eyes.

It takes all his willpower not to take full control and throw her on her back on the mattress.

But he knows she wants to be in command tonight. She's in her tavern.

And her eyes are still shining with pure happiness. Somehow, the place still smells the same. It makes her feel fully at home.

_Finally._

He notices when her movements begin to get more irregular, nonsense tumbling from her lips as her eyes squeeze shut. Her sharp nails break through the skin of his shoulder but the pain only spurs him on, and a half smirk comes to his face as he enjoys the sight of Eleanor finally throwing her head back with a short scream of his name.

God, but he  _lives_  for these moments.

The feel of her walls spasming around him triggers his own release and he captures her lips in a bruising kiss, hands coming back to her waist, holding her flush against him as she wraps her arms around his neck.

With one last soft bite to her shoulder, he lays down on his back, bringing her with him. The mattress is barely enough to fit both of them, but she doesn't mind. It just means their bodies need to remain pressed close together, and she doesn't have a word of complaint about that.

Eleanor just can't stop smiling as he moves so they're both laying on their sides, his arm around her waist pulling her closer as one of her hands came to his chest.

Charles notices when her fingers seek something for a brief moment before she just brings her hand to the nape of his neck.

Sometimes she still tries to grasp at the anchor necklace, forgetting that it now rests around Davina's neck.

And to him, it's the most adorable thing in the whole world.

The habit she developed before the memories came back. When they didn't even know who they were, but the connection between them was still just as strong as it always was. Sometimes, Charles wonders if there may be some truth to the whole soulmates bullshit Caroline is always talking about.

Whatever the case, he's just so grateful to have his blonde queen in his arms again.

And this time, this time she's not going anywhere.

Blue-green eyes meet his as he caresses her face with his knuckles, softly, in a loving gesture no one would ever think he was capable of.

Eleanor offers him an unguarded smile, blinking a couple of times before asking a question that brings a half smirk to his lips. "How long did Flint know?"

"He knew from the beginning. He was the one who came with me to take care of all that legal bullshit."

She tries to ignore the way her heart flutters at that thought.

"He's such a good actor. When we came here the other day and the bartender said the place was already sold, he just kept his face so neutral... I didn't suspect anything."

A brief chuckle leaves his lips, his fingers playing with her messy hair. "Good."

Soon, a glint comes to her lazy eyes and she instantly slips out of the calm state of the afterglow into a more hyper one, her brain already running as she starts to make plans, excitement written all over her face.

It's such a beautiful sight, and Charles can't help but smile, watching her face as she talks.

"I want to rebuild it. Like Flint did with the Barlow House. I want to bring the tavern back. We can have the furniture custom made and decorate it just like in the past... It can be a thematic bar! A new attraction on the Island. Where people can know what it feels like to be in a  _real_  pirate ambient. Fuck, it will be perfect. I will have my business again, without my father to ruin things this time, it will be only  _my_  business."

Her face is glowing as she meets his eyes, only now fully realizing what Charles just gave her.

"It will be like a dream. I may even get to wear my old clothes again, once in a while. Maybe hire some people to dress as pirates too to make the whole experience even better for the tourists."

"It will be the best attraction this Island has ever seen." Charles tells her, pressing a kiss to her shoulder, and another thought comes to her mind.

"Now Scott can finally move here with Agatha and Madi. He'll have a job... He won't have to be my father's slave anymore."

"I already contacted him." Her eyes fill with surprise and Charles shrugs. "I already knew you were probably going to want to rebuild the tavern. So I told him to wait for a while. But as soon as we have everything ready, he said he will quit his job at the mansion and move here with his daughter and the Maroon Queen."

Eleanor can't help her happy laugh, suddenly taken by such a wave of gratitude for this man. Her hand on the nape of his neck pulls him closer, lips crashing against his.

She doesn't stop smiling throughout the kiss, tangling her legs with his and moving impossibly closer, fingers tracing the now imaginary scars on his back.

Her eyes are still shining with devotion and gratitude as they pull away, but she clears her throat, quickly regaining her composure.

"So... about your crew. Is it definitive?"

He nods, eyes darkening for a second. "Most of it. I didn't accept one of them, who kept looking at you even as you left the harbor with Flint."

She frowns in confusion. "Charles, they  _all_  looked at me."

He shakes his head, arms tightening protectively around her waist. "This one was different. Believe me, I know how to recognize a rebel one. The others, they may have looked at you, but they had respect in their eyes. They know you are off limits, and they accept that. But the one I'm talking about... He had the eyes of a mutineer. He didn't give a shit about orders. It was a matter of time. Sooner or later he would attack. Wait until the right opportunity. Until you were alone."

A shiver runs down her spine.

And again, she realizes just how good he is at keeping her safe.

A sigh escapes her and her fingers trace his jawline. "And why did you choose all the shadiest outlaws of the Island?"

"Didn't you recognize any of them?"

She shakes her head. "I didn't really look at their faces. Had better stuff to do."

He scoffs softly at her words. "They're all reincarnated pirates from our past. From various crews. I wanted a crew, and I wanted it to... have the  _essence_. The thirst for freedom. Besides... I needed to know they wouldn't cause any problems once we reached Somalia and they started to mingle with Teach's pirates."

She doesn't fail to notice the change in his tone when he talks about Somalia. It seems it's still hard for him to deal with the fact that she's not going.

And once more, she wonders why.

"Why is this so important to you?"

Her voice is quiet. She never expected to get an answer, considering he has high walls as well, but then Charles surprises her again.

"You know my father left my mother and I. He left Davina." Eleanor scowls softly at his words, reaching to caress his left cheek as he spoke again. "I don't want to be like him."

"So that's why you were insisting so much?" She asks cautiously and he just shrugs, playing with her hair, staring down at the blonde strands between his fingers to avoid her eyes.

But she's having none of it.

Eleanor grabs his face with both hands, forcing him to look at her with a shake of her head.

She's a little ashamed of herself. All this time, he just wanted to be better for her. And she responded by comparing him to Woodes.

_Great._

"Charles, you're not that man. I don't want you to think that just because he's your father, you'll end up becoming a monster like him. Because it won't happen. A monster wouldn't do this." She gestures at the walls around them. "You're not leaving me. You're just going away for a while, that's all... You are  _not_  abandoning me."

"Eleanor." Pain flickers in his eyes. It breaks her heart. "You and Davina are the two most important things in my life. I don't want to act like that worthless piece of shit. I want to be better than him. For you. And for her."

"And you are. Can't you see? You gave Davina the necklace that has been with you ever since you were a baby. The one you never took off. Just so she could be sure she would see you again. And... Do you have any  _idea_  what you just gave me?"

She lets out a dry, brief laugh, fingers tracing his jawline again while he stays silent, watching her face closely in the candlelight.

"Stop being a slave of your father. You will never walk in his footsteps..." His eyes fall closed when Eleanor presses a kiss to his birthmark, smiling against his warm skin. "...So just break free from these chains."

Her words hit him really deep.

But not in a bad way.

Charles offers her a brief nod, hand finding hers as he laces their fingers together.

Her eyes remain locked with his for a while. She looks so concentrated. He knows her well enough.

_She's making a decision._

Soon a determined glint comes to her eyes and she sits up on the mattress, reaching for her discarded blouse.

He watches as she retrieves her phone from the pocket, starting to type something.

"What are you doing?"

The soft smile on her lips as she looks at him again is enough to light up his whole world.

"Sending Mary a message... Asking what is Davina's favorite toy." She explains, letting the phone drop to the mattress before laying down again, cuddling up to his chest. "So I can buy it... And give it to her myself when  _we_  travel to Somalia."

Surprise fills his eyes. And he's about to object when she cuts him off.

"I trust you, Charles. I said you were acting like Woodes. But what I didn't realize is that I was repeating a mistake from the past. Back at the fort, one of the main reasons I betrayed you was because I didn't trust you to keep me safe." Trying to ignore the pain brought by certain memories, Eleanor lets her eyes drop to his chest, fingers tracing a certain imaginary mark, the one that doesn't exist anymore. "And well... We both know already how that story ends, don't we?"

He smirks briefly at the bitter sarcasm in her voice, holding her closer before dropping a kiss to the top of her head.

"I won't let him touch you."

Just the thought of seeing Teach sends a wave of dread straight to her heart. But Eleanor does her best to repress her fear, hiding her face in the crook of Charles' neck.

"I know. I know you won't."

They don't know how long they stay like this, but suddenly she thinks he whispers something.

It sounded so much like a " _thank you_ ", and it's her turn to be surprised.

Did he really say it?

The enigmatic look in his eyes as she glances at his face tells her she'll never know for sure. But she doesn't really care.

Because in the next second he's kissing her, trying to roll her onto her back. But with a smirk, she fights back, ending up on top of him instead.

"My tavern.  _My rules_."

His eyes shine with mischief, a wicked smirk on his lips as she kisses him again.

And he has absolutely no problem with letting her take control.

* * *

**Los Angeles**

**2 months later**

The man sitting at the other side of the desk stares at him in silence for a long moment before finally sighing.

"Just one last question before you leave. You wouldn't happen to know where my daughter is, would you?"

Mr. Scott keeps his face neutral, shrugging briefly. "All that matters is that she is safe."

"I heard you're leaving the country with your wife and child. You are going to join Eleanor wherever she is, aren't you?"

His silence causes Richard to clench his jaw hard.

"Of course. I should have known you would take her side and defend my ungrateful  _witch_  of a daughter-"

Angry dark brown eyes meet the CEO's blue ones.

After two lifetimes, the former security man has had enough of this bullshit. And the words he always wanted to say simply tumble from his lips.

"She's not  _your_  daughter, she's  _mine_!"

Richard laughs dryly, the unruly hair and dark bags under his eyes making him look fresh out of a mental house. Or an old vampire movie.

"You're so pitiful. As much as you want, Eleanor will never be your child, look at you. Your skin, your hair."

He stares at his former boss in disbelief, shaking his head slightly. "How many diapers did you change? How many times did you pick her up at school? What's her favorite food? Favorite color? At what age did she lose her first tooth?"

"She was 8."

"Wrong. She was 6."

Richard rolls his eyes, reaching for the glass of whiskey that rested on his desk. As he drinks, Mr. Scott begins to talk again, his tone indignant. It seems all the resentment is finally getting the best of him.

"I took care of every bruise, soothed every fever, read all the bedtime stories, admonished her after each temper tantrum. I  _raised_  her."

_Again._

His dark eyes are shining with many different emotions. Richard merely scoffs at him and the words he just said.

And Scott is not shaken by it. Much to the contrary. A sudden wave of rage and determination rises in his chest and he raises his chin at his fromer boss before getting to his feet.

"Sir, now that I don't work for you anymore, there's something I want to tell you. Something I have been wanting to say ever since that night 21 years ago, when I found you about to drown Eleanor in the pool."

The CEO still has a sarcastic, hostile look on his face, eyes filled with scorn. "And what is it?"

"Burn in hell, Richard."

His jaw hangs open slightly in surprise. Now  _that_  was completely unexpected.

He stares at the other man in disbelief as he heads to the door of the office.

"Have fun watching this company fall apart while I live life to the fullest with  _my_  daughter."

As soon as Scott closes the door behind him and starts walking these corridors for the last time, unable to contain his wide smile, he feels as if a huge weight has been lifted from his shoulders.

He's about to start fresh. Away from here.

But it doesn't really matter where he's going, as long as he has his family.

His wife. His  _daughters_.

When he reaches his car and takes one last glance at the mansion, easy laughter leaves his lips.

_Free at last._


	3. Keep Us Safe

The airport is crowded with tourists and for some reason, these people always get on her nerves. She simply doesn't like seeing them in her home.

But Eleanor knows she needs to work on this. They will be her customers really soon. A sigh leaves her lips and Flint glances over at her as he stands by her side, a bored look on his face.

Before he can ask what's wrong, her face suddenly lights up, a wide smile coming to her lips as she rushes towards a group of four people.

Happy laughter escapes her when Scott receives her in his arms, hand cradling the back of her head as he smiles brightly too, a relieved look on his face.

"How's my little China Doll?"

Eleanor grimaces at the old nickname as she pulls away.

He started to call her that back when she was still just a toddler, spending time with him and his family for the very first time in this life. She would get adorably confused, staring at their dark skin then at her own pale one, a sweet frown on her face. Almost as if she was wondering if there was something wrong with her.

It was the cutest thing in the world for him and Agatha, so they ended up calling her their little China Doll in reference to her skin. Before Madi was born the couple always took Eleanor out into the city, drawing attention from everyone. People probably thought she was their adopted child.

Scott briefly looks at her body, smile faltering as he still keeps a hold of her shoulders.

"Is he treating you right, Eleanor?"

Her heart flutters. Fuck, she missed him.

"More than right. Don't worry. Our fights are always only verbal."

He hesitates before nodding with a sigh, letting go of her shoulders as Madi came over to wrap her in a hug too.

"LA is incredibly boring without you. You have no idea."

Eleanor laughs at her words, barely acknowledging John's presence as she pulled away, glancing over at a serious looking Agatha.

She has her memories back now too, and after staring at the blonde's face for a few moments a heavy sigh leaves her lips, one hand reaching to squeeze her shoulder.

"Hello China Doll."

Eleanor can't help but smile brightly at her. This woman was the closest she had to a mother while growing up in this life, and while their relationship today wasn't nowhere near as close as hers and Scott's, Agatha has forever conquered a special place in her heart.

How she loves this family.

How she  _missed_  them.

Now she has both her father figures back, and she couldn't be happier.

Scott has his arm around her shoulder as the group walks to retrieve their luggage and she glances at Flint, who walked a few feet behind them, eyes lowered to the floor.

Eleanor frowns at this.

"How's our tavern?" Scott asks and another smile comes to her lips as they wait for the suitcases to arrive.

"You must see it. It's not complete yet, but most of it is done, and I'm so satisfied with the results so far. Charles is there right now, he watches the workers most of the time, wanting to make sure everything is perfect. He helps them too. We can go see it if you want, I'm about to head there."

His eyes are filled with curiosity and he nods while John stifles a yawn, clearly exhausted.

"The house is ready for you four. I took care of the electricity issue, now the lamps are working again and the water from the shower isn't cold anymore." Flint finally speaks as they head to the truck and motorcycle, and Agatha smiles warmly at him.

"Thank you so much for letting us stay at that house. It's only for a little while."

He shrugs, helping to load their suitcases in the back of the Ford Ranger. "You're free to stay for as long as you want. That house has no use for me, and I prefer to stay far away from it. So don't worry about that."

"So, who's going to the tavern with me, and who's going straight to the house?" Eleanor asks the group once the bags are taken care of, getting on the driver's seat of the truck while Madi offers John a smile.

"I'm curious to see it. So is my mom and my dad, of course. But you didn't sleep too well last night, you really should go get some rest."

Eager to get to her beloved place as quickly as possible, Eleanor looks over at the motorcycle, then at Flint.

"Can you give him a ride? I'll just drive the rest of the group to the house after they see the tavern."

He gives her a murderous look and she's slightly taken aback by this reaction, as brief as it was. Her eyes narrow for a second as she watches him grab the extra helmet from the backseat of the truck before giving it to John without looking at his face.

The corners of Eleanor's lips twitch up involuntarily as she closes the door, waiting until everyone was in the truck before starting the engine.

"Please get the motorcycle back to the harbor soon, Charles will kill me if it's not there when we return to the ship." She calls out through the rolled down window before driving away.

Flint gets on the motorcycle and just stares at the distancing truck with a clenched jaw for a moment. His anger and discomfort only grow as John hesitates, staring down at the helmet in his hands as if it was an alien.

"Are you waiting for a proper invitation or what?" He snaps and the con man finally meets his eyes, forcing a half smirk.

"Just wondering if you really know how to ride this thing without getting us killed in the process."

His attempt at lightening the mood fails miserably.

"I'll have you know that I rode this thing for a total of 18 hours during our roadtrip from LA to Rhode Island. Between Vane, Anne and myself, I am the most responsible rider this motorcycle has ever met. Now hop on before my patience runs out and I leave you to walk all the way to the house."

John rolls his eyes, finally putting on his own helmet. "You really haven't changed a bit, have you?"

For some reason, the words  _almost_  bring a smile to Flint's lips.

But he lets out an impatient sigh while the con man hesitates again, awkwardly climbing on the motorcycle seat behind him. His hands stay frozen at his sides and he clears his throat. "Is there anything I should know? I never did this before."

"Just be careful not to touch the exhaust system, it gets hot. Keep your feet on the footrests, both the real and the prosthetic one, please. If I stop and you want to put your foot down, warn me first."

He's already starting the engine and John frowns, his hands still at his sides. "I'm supposed to hold on to something, right?"

The older man freezes for a moment before glancing over his shoulder and cursing under his breath. "There is no grab rail around your seat."

"So I've noticed. Do I hold on to your shoulders?"

Neither of them can believe how incredibly awkward and unreal this situation is. They're still expecting to wake up and laugh about this strange dream any time.

"No. It will interfere with my control. Just...  _One hand_  should be enough already. My waist."

John sighs heavily. "Okay then."

If Flint feels anything when the con man behind him follows his instructions, awkwardly putting one arm around his waist, he pushes the unwanted emotions away.

A cruel little smirk tugs at his lips when he speeds off, riding in a much more careless manner than he usually does.

Because he wants to reach their destination as quickly as possible. But also to make this experience even more uncomfortable for his unlikely passenger.

* * *

"It's fucking  _perfect_ , isn't it?" Eleanor asks with a bright smile as they get out of the truck, all eyes glued to the building in front of them.

Scott's jaw actually hangs open for a second. He wasn't expecting it to look so much like the old one. It's still a work in progress, yes, there's still a lot left for the workers to build, but he already feels as if he just traveled back in time.

"How in the world did you manage to make them build an exact copy of the old one?"

She smirks proudly. "I drew the project myself, of course. And also... As I said before, Charles spends a  _lot_  of time in here, bossing the workers around, and also helping them. He said he wants to make sure they will get all the details perfect." She tries really hard to keep her tone nonchalant, but Scott knows her too well and the glint in her eyes gives her away.

His little girl is more in love with the pirate than she's ever been before.

And while he feels jealousy spark in his chest, he's at peace. Because he never saw Eleanor so happy before.

So different from the woman she was months ago.

She's practically glowing, her smiles are frequent and light, not forced or sarcastic, but genuine.

The dark bags under her once ever tired eyes are completely gone, proof that she is now free from her nightmares and night terrors.

There's no sign of that constant stress on her face and body language now. Every movement she makes is fluid and light, not stiff and tense.

She looks healthier. Even her skin is less pale, and her weight is now more adequate.

It always made him worried, to see how skinny she was before. He always thought it was unhealthy.

But now she's so much better, and more beautiful than ever.

He can't stop smiling, seeing her like this.

It's probably safe to say that she finally won the battle against her severe depression, after 23 long years. And while the credit for this victory is only hers in the end, Scott also knows that Vane helped a lot.

So who is he to judge and condemn their relationship now?

Speaking of the pirate, they see him as soon as they make their way inside the building, and the sight sends a wave of déjà vu crashing over him.

He's shirtless, helping the workers rebuild the tavern, much like he did with the fort three centuries ago.

So much has changed since then. It still amazes him sometimes that these two were able to find their way back to each other, overcome everything and make their bond even stronger.

And to think that Scott had been sure, all those years ago, that it was just a little innocent teenage crush Eleanor had on that savage pirate, and that it would go away in a matter of months.

If only he knew back then, how very wrong he was.

Charles' smile when he sees Eleanor only gives him more peace of mind. It seems that, despite everything, this is the only one for his little girl. The words he said to her on the day of her 15th birthday in this life come back to haunt him.

_"You must always remember something, Eleanor. No one will ever be good enough for my little girl. But someday, someone will be **almost**  good enough. You must not accept any less than that."_

Now this certain someone has found her.  _Again._

And even if today he was disapproving of this relationship, like he was in the past, Scott knows there's nothing he would have been able to do.

"It's truly impressive." He says, coming back from his thoughts just as the shirtless pirate makes his way over to them. "I'm really glad you have it back."

Eleanor shakes her head, that beautiful smile refusing to leave her lips. "It's not just mine. It's  _ours_."

Scott smiles brightly at her words and she looks over at the other two women. Agatha has been quiet since the airport, but she can understand her.

Madi, on the other hand...

She's acting a little weird. Almost as if she's worried.

As if she knows something they don't.

A shiver goes down her spine, but she pushes the strange feeling away, wanting to focus on this happy moment.

"I see you're making good on your promise to take good care of her." Her father figure says as Charles comes to a stop by her side, his arm barely touching hers. She rolls her eyes good-naturedly, glancing over at that perfect face.

"As if she needs or even wants someone taking care of her. But at least I try."

The answer seems to please Scott far more than some silly vow of eternal protection.

"So, how was the flight? I didn't remember to ask before, sorry."

Scott shakes his head as she leads the small group to the office. Only he and Charles notice the way she automatically reaches to grab her non existent skirts as they go up the steps, quickly letting her hands drop to her sides when she notices she's wearing skinny jeans instead of the antique clothes.

They both think it's so adorable.

But Eleanor acts as if it didn't even happen, smile widening again as she proudly shows them the only part of the tavern that is complete.

Even the custom-made furniture is already here, and just like every other time she sees this room, the blonde has to fight hard not to laugh in delight.

She only allowed herself to do that the first time she saw it, and Charles was right behind her with a half smirk on his lips as she turned around and threw herself into his arms, tears of happiness burning in her eyes.

But of course that was a one-time thing.

She has a reputation to uphold.

"It was alright." Scott says in reply to her question about the flight, and Agatha finally lets out a soft chuckle.

"He was terrified of getting on that plane. You should have seen it."

Eleanor can't help but laugh at this, leaning against the desk. She doesn't fail to notice that Madi still seems to have something important on her mind.

"It was my first time flying. I'm not the one who goes to Africa every year for volunteer work."

Agatha rolls her eyes with a soft smile while Charles walks around the desk to stare out the window.

The one detail they couldn't have as an exact replica from the past. The view is much different now.

But Eleanor doesn't really care. The tavern is more than enough already.

"It should be ready in the next month or so. There will be a grand opening. I just hope Caroline will arrive in time for it."

A quick grimace comes to Scott's face and he sighs heavily. "She will. On another note... Would it kill you to call her your mother, once in a while? She feels really hurt whenever you call her by her name, Eleanor."

She lowers her eyes like a guilty child for a moment before raising her chin again and shrugging.

"I did call her 'mom', once. But I'm afraid it will take me a while to be able to do it again...  _If_  it ever happens."

Again, he sighs, shaking his head briefly. "Try to work on that."

It would be a lie if Eleanor said she doesn't want to.

_But can she?_

"I won't promise anything."

Half an hour later, when the exhaustion from the recent trip begins to take its toll on the three newcomers, Eleanor offers to drive them to the Barlow House.

And just as she suspected, Madi asks her parents to wait outside so she can have a moment with her.

As the couple leaves the two women and Charles alone in the office, Eleanor's smile slowly vanishes.

She has a feeling she won't like this one bit. "What is it?"

Madi meets her eyes with a solemn look on her face.

It makes her blood turn to ice.

"There's something you need to know."

* * *

"So, how are you dealing with... stuff?"

John's voice breaks the thick silence and Flint gives him a sharp look as they sit at the table, staring over at the fireplace. The younger man shrugs, that roguish glint coming to his eyes. "You told me never to ask about  _him_. I didn't say his name. I just asked-"

His words are cut off when Flint gets up from his chair abruptly, turning his back to him and speaking in a harsh tone. "Shower should be working properly. Let me know if you face any problems with the water heating. It's down the hall, there are two rooms... You should probably wait until the rest of the group is here so you can choose."

John sighs heavily, shaking his head.

_Should've known better._

"I need to go take the motorcycle back to the harbor. Get some rest. You look horrible."

The con man raises his eyebrow at his harsh words as he heads over to the door. But a smile tugs at his lips anyway.

"You have my number. If there's anything wrong with the house, just call. Oh, and..." John looks up from the table's surface to meet his eyes as Flint stands by the open door, helmet in hand. "...if you ever try talking about this sort of stuff with me again, I will take you back to that island and leave you there."

To his utter surprise, the older man offers him a smirk. It looks so much like one he's seen before, and his own voice echoes in mind.

_"We might be friends by then."_

That memory brings a smile to his face. However, just as he's about to speak, Flint is gone.

He stares at the now closed door for a moment, listening in silence as the motorcycle speeds away from the house. A heavy sigh leaves his lips while he looks over at the fireplace.

* * *

Charles' full attention is now focused on Madi as he turns around, walking away from the window.

"I talked to Max earlier, just as we were heading to the airport... She texted me."

Eleanor's scowl doesn't leave her face as the other woman talks, that uncomfortable feeling on the pit of her stomach growing stronger with each passing second. "She asked me not to mention this to you, because it could be nothing. She didn't want to give you a false alarm and ruin such a happy time, but... I think you should know anyway."

Madi sighs, clenching her jaw for a moment before meeting her eyes again. "It's Rogers."

Charles is at her side in a heartbeat, his features hardening as Eleanor exhales sharply with a brief shake of her head. "What about him?"

"There's been a rumor at the hospital. Sarah said she saw him move a finger."

The happy glint that filled her eyes just a few minutes ago is now completely and Eleanor curses under her breath, walking around the desk to sit on her chair, her chest heaving for a moment before she regains her composure.

"And what does this mean? Is he waking up?"

"That's the thing. No one knows. It's been more than four months and with each passing day, the doctors feel less and less hopeful. But Max said all the other nurses were telling Mason and Sarah that this is a good sign."

Eleanor buries her face in her hands, jaw clenched hard. "Why did this have to happen  _now_?"

Madi doesn't say a word while the blonde pulls out her phone, dialing a number as Charles slowly comes to lean against the desk just beside her chair.

"Put it on speaker."

She nods at his words, obeying and setting the phone in front of them on the desk.

"Is he waking up?" Is the first thing she says when Max picks up the call.

For a moment there's nothing but silence on the other side of the line.

_"I knew I should have kept this silent."_  The sweet accent does nothing to calm her nerves this time.  _"Look... I can't say for sure. I stay away from his room. But Eleanor, what I can say is that after four months of coma caused by brain damage - which is the case thanks to Vane's generous kicks to his head - the chances of a recovery are as low as 15%."_

"But he moved a fucking finger."

_"It's what Sarah said. No one saw it but her. The woman is 7 months pregnant and drowning in her sorrow, mon ange. She could be delirious."_

Eleanor takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, leaning back on the chair with a shake of her head.

As Max calls her name once, twice, three times and she shows no sign of answering, Charles grabs the phone from the desk.

"She's fine. You pay close attention to the governor, and call us if there are any changes."

_"Even if he wakes up tomorrow, you two won't have anything to worry about for a while. After such a long time in coma, the recovery will be really slow. Cognitive and physical difficulties... He will probably need treatment, physical therapy to be able to even walk again. We won't know for sure what's the extent of the damage until he wakes up. **If** he wakes up."_

His jaw clenches hard.

If only he kicked that idiot's head a little bit harder four months ago...

He could be dead and buried by now.

"Keep us updated."

_"I will. Take good care of my girl."_

Just as he's about to end the call, Eleanor finally speaks again, reaching for her phone. "Wait."

Charles frowns as he hands the device to her and she brings it closer to her face.

"Max, do you... Do you know what the gender of Woodes' baby is?"

There's silence for a moment. And the criminal tries hard to ignore the twinge of pain in his heart.

_"It's a little boy."_

Eleanor exhales deeply at her words, ending the call while her eyes fall closed and she leans back on the chair again.

It makes his heart clench.

* * *

The ship is far from the island. Her home is nothing but a small silhouette behind them, and surprisingly, it doesn't make her feel bad.

The sunset is even more beautiful when they're out in the open sea and her eyes fall closed for a moment. She momentarily lets herself forget about their problems, Charles' touch on her hands seeming to chase away all the stress from the day.

When they returned to the Ranger two hours ago, he immediately went to the helm, calling out for Jack and Anne so they could help him take the ship out into the ocean. And once they were a safe distance from the island, he brought a barrel with a target from bellow deck.

As she caught sight of the gun in his hand, she realized his intentions.

They discovered a possible new threat today. And Charles is eager to teach her how to defend herself further than he already did.

So he's finally making good on his promise of teaching her how to fire a weapon properly.

Truth be told, she's nervous as hell.

The last time she held a gun in her hands was shortly before her painful death, and this situation is bringing back unpleasant memories.

And of course the pirate behind her notices, one hand moving from hers to her waist, holding her closer to his body in a reassuring manner.

His breath is hot on her neck as she holds the gun, the unfamiliar weight in her hands bringing a scowl to her face. Charles drops a kiss to her shoulder before speaking in her ear.

"Now just imagine the target is that fucking Spaniard and pull the trigger."

His words do wonders to encourage her.

With a clenched jaw, she imagines that disgusting monster in front of her, imagines him lunging forward. For a moment she's back at the Barlow house, hair messy, that stupid dress suffocating her.

A choked sound leaves her lips as she does as he instructed, the shot resounding around them, mixing with the waves crashing against the hull.

Her eyes squeeze shut.

She feels the tears trying to escape.

"Well, look at that."

Charles' voice is filled with pride and it makes her open her eyes slowly.

She stares at the target in disbelief.

"I... actually hit it?"

"Not only that. You hit the center of it. Pretty impressive if you ask me." Jack says from his place near the helm and she glances at him over hers and Charles' shoulder, still frowning in pure disbelief.

"Looks like all you needed was Charles' help. If only he was behind you whispering instructions three centuries ago, you would have shot that Spaniard right in the forehead, I'm sure."

Eleanor offers him a brief smile, shivering when she feels her criminal's fingers caressing her arms softly. He's still standing right behind her, his body just barely touching hers. But it's enough to send a wave of heat through her body.

"Well, that was interesting to see but I better get back to our quarters before Anne comes up here and catches me acting civil towards you again. It had disastrous consequences the last time."

Eleanor actually chuckles at that, staring down at the gun in her hands as Jack disappears below deck.

For a moment there's nothing but the wind and the sound of the waves, Charles' fingers still brushing over the skin of her arms.

Eventually he sighs, stepping away from her. There's still a hint of pride in his blue eyes as Eleanor turns around to look at his face.

He seems haunted by something though. Ever since they left the tavern earlier with Madi, Scott and Agatha.

It's bugging her.

She hands the gun to him, watching as he went down the hatch door to their cabin to put the weapon away.

With a tired sigh, Eleanor walks over to the rail, one hand caressing the wood lovingly as she stares at the horizon. Soon, footsteps reach her ears and Charles joins her just as the sun disappears completely.

"When did you call her 'mom'?"

His voice cuts the silence like a knife and she frowns in confusion, meeting his eyes.

"What?"

"Caroline. When did you call her 'mom'?"

Eleanor looks away from his face, heart clenching at the memory. "Why are you so interested?"

He moves closer and she feels him shrug, his shoulder touching hers. "Must have taken something extreme for you to do so."

She hears it. The hint of concern on his voice.

A smile tugs at her lips.

"Are you worried? It was months ago... It doesn't matter anymore. Nothing to be concerned about."

"Eleanor." His tone is absolute as he brings his hand to hers, his thumb now caressing the wood too.

A heavy sigh leaves her lips.

"It was a tough night... I kept having nightmares about the night she was killed. Vivid nightmares. I could see her, her blood. I could smell the stables on fire. And then there was also... You. The hanging. I kept having both nightmares over and over again... And I knew it wasn't real, but as hard as I tried, I just couldn't wake up." She meets his eyes again, holding back tears. "I wanted you so bad. I just wanted to run to you, but I couldn't. So I went to Caroline. I met her at the park. She encouraged me to see you again. She said that I needed it. I was so fragile, I don't know how it happened. All I know is that a while later I found myself standing in front of the bed at that other hideout... Waiting for you."

Charles closes his eyes for a moment. He knows exactly what occasion she's talking about. The first time he was face to face with her again after the memories came back.

He was so angry back then. He remembers throwing a bottle against the wall, the glass shattering as she stood there, clearly nervous and scared as hell but doing her very best to hide it.

She sought him out, said she was sorry. And God, he fucking  _hated_  her for it.

He remembers taunting her about her father and Rogers. About how her husband failed miserably at keeping her safe, unlike him.

She slapped him hard.

_And after that..._

His jaw clenches.

He was so brutal with her that evening. So cold.

He made her break, he made her beg. He just wanted to punish her.

So he did.

He turned her into a quivering mess beneath him, and the criminal can still remember her hands gripping the sheets tightly, her nails breaking through his skin as she called out his name desperately.

And when it was over, when she tried to touch him, when she tried to talk... He just pushed her away.

Shut her out.

Left her all alone with her pain.

"Charles?"

That perfect voice brings him back to the present and he looks at her face, unable to believe just how  _relieved_  he feels to have her right here by his side now.

"I had no idea you were so hurt that night."

She lowers her eyes to the ocean below. It's starting to get darker and darker, but the water is still visible.

"Do you regret it now, the way you treated me back then?"

Charles actually hesitates for a moment.

_Does he?_

The answer soon comes to him and he sighs, shaking his head.

"No."

Eleanor raises her eyebrows at that. "At least you're honest."

"You deserved all of it. So no, as much as it hurt me, I don't regret putting you through all that pain."

A soft chuckle leaves her lips and he frowns, looking at her face.

"God, we're so fucking dysfunctional."

She has a barely perceptible little smirk on her face and he raises an eyebrow, one of his arms coming around her waist.

"Are we? Who gets to say what's dysfunctional and what's not? Is there some sort of manual to relationships? Each one is different, we're just... Original. Out of the ordinary."

She laughs at that, turning around as he brought his other arm around her waist too. Both her hands come to his chest and she smiles at him. "Somehow, I knew you were going to say just that. And I guess you're right. Oh, and just so you know... I like being  _'out of the ordinary'_."

He offers her a half smirk before capturing her lips with his, arms tightening around her waist, pulling her even closer.

One of his hands moves under the white blouse as he begins to nip at her lower lip, already planning to pull her back towards the hatch door to their cabin just behind the helm.

But just as he starts to do so, she breaks their kiss with an annoyed look on her face, a frustrated little noise leaving her lips.

He frowns at this. "What is it this time?"

"I forgot how hot this place can be sometimes. It's really pissing me off."

He rolls his eyes briefly but soon an idea forms on his brain and he lets go of her, walking over to the other side of the ship while pulling his shirt over his head.

An outraged scowl comes to Eleanor's face as she watches him grab the ladder made of wood and rope before throwing it over the rail.

"Are you serious?" She snaps and he shrugs as the ladder hits the water below with a loud splash.

"You said you were hot. Well, I know from experience that there's nothing better than a night swim to help with that. So I'm going, with or without you."

He has that infuriating look on his face. The one that's somehow nonchalant and taunting at the same time.

And he's already taking his jeans off too.

A scoff leaves her lips. "I am not going to swim in my underwear."

The bastard shrugs again, the ghost of a smirk coming to his face. "Naked works too. You won't hear a word of complaint from me."

She narrows her eyes at him as he finishes discarding his clothes, trying not to stare at his exposed body.

This is crazy and so not like her.

But the idea of swimming naked in the cool water with him sounds so damn appealing.

With one glance towards the stairs that led below deck, Eleanor tries to cling to her last bit of reason.

"What if Jack and Anne come up here and see-"

"I walked by the door to their cabin while I was coming back from ours." He interrupts her words, already starting to go down the ladder. "And trust me, you don't want to know what they are doing. They will be locked in there for a while."

She grimaces briefly at his words, and all her resolve is lost.

Watching as he disappeared from her sight, she does quick work on getting rid of her own clothes, rolling her eyes as she hears a splash. The reckless idiot jumped instead of going all the way down the ladder.

_Typical._

The sight Eleanor is greeted with when she walks over to the rail and looks down almost makes her give up.

She can barely see the ocean. The water is just so dark during the night, and she has no idea what could be lurking under the waves.

Are there sharks around here? She doesn't remember.

But Charles soon comes to the surface, staring up at her with that challenging look on his face.

"Scared?"

She scoffs at him. And jumps from the rail, not even bothering with the ladder.

Just to surprise him and prove that she's not some scared girl.

But  _God_ , does she regret it.

The water is surprisingly cold, she's not sure how that's possible but it just is. And it does cruel things to her overheated skin.

As she quickly comes back to the surface, his brief chuckle reaches her ears.

An indignant look comes to her face. "You planned this all along."

"Not my fault if you took the bait so easily."

Rolling her eyes again, she looks down, unable to see anything. "How do we know if there's anything under the water?"

"We don't. Just relax. I did this countless times in the past. And nothing ever happened. Even sharks are scared of me."

Eleanor raises an eyebrow at his words before shaking her head. "Well, I think you're just lucky. And way too full of yourself."

This is unreal. Just a few seconds ago she was suffering with the heat, and now her teeth are already starting to chatter. Charles notices, his smirk fading away as he swims closer and brings his arms around her. At first she tries to push him away, but even in the cold water his skin is so warm. And she simply can't resist him.

_Not anymore._

Wrapping her legs around his hips, she lets her head drop to his shoulder, eyes closing as he moves them away from the ship. And she trusts him completely to keep them afloat.

All her worries seem to leave her mind as he holds her, and neither of them know how long they stay like this, floating in the open sea, safely in each other's arms.

When she drops a kiss to his shoulder, he finally speaks.

And her heart skips a beat.

"Why did you ask Max about the governor's baby?"

A soft scowl comes to her face as she pulls away to meets his eyes. "I honestly don't know how that happened. When I realized it, the words were out of my mouth already."

"That doesn't answer my question, Eleanor."

With a heavy sigh, she lets her eyes drop to the water between them. "I don't want you to think that I still feel anything for him. I'm being true when I say that I hate him now. That I want him dead. However..."

Charles watches her face closely as she swallows hard, eyelashes still beaded with moisture, pale skin contrasting with the darkness.

"...there's a part of him that I will always love. The part that was growing in my womb when I died. So I guess... I just feel curious, about this baby. Because it's the only link I have to the child I lost... Will it look like him? Would my own baby have looked like him? Sometimes I catch myself thinking about that."

She expects him to push her away and swim back to the ship, leaving her all alone in the ocean.

But instead, his grip on her waist only tightens.

And she feels encouraged.

"Finding out the gender today only made things worse, because... Back then, I felt it was a boy too."

"Did you want a boy?"

She shrugs, tears burning in her eyes as she played with his loose, wet hair.

"I just wanted a healthy baby. Boy, girl... It didn't really matter to me. Woodes talked a lot about wanting a son though."

"Just like your father."

She stiffens in his arms. The words hit her deep and she shakes her head, a soft scoff leaving her lips.

"I feel so stupid now. I spent my whole life feeling angry with him for the way he acted, and then I married a man who was..." Letting go of his hair, she lets her head drop to his shoulder again. "They're just so much alike."

His grave voice in her ear makes her shiver while he slowly brings them closer to ship again. "Maybe you felt closer to your father. Maybe it was a way to deal better with your grief... Maybe you wanted to prove something to someone or to yourself. Or maybe you were just stupid. Who knows."

She has to chuckle at that. "Or maybe a mix of it all."

"Exactly. And just so you know... I'm not angry that you feel this way about that child. As I said before, knowing that you loved your unborn baby doesn't make me mad. As much as the thought of you carrying his child disgusts me... You were just being a mother." He nips at her exposed neck as they reach the ship. "And I could  _never_  condemn you for that."

Her tears almost win when she raises her head from his shoulder to kiss his lips.

His understanding is such a relief.

_How could she ever leave him?_

He moves them through the water until her back is pressed against the Ranger's ladder, the rungs hard against her spine.

She doesn't mind.

When Charles braces his feet on the bottom rung, trapping her in place, she kisses the corner of his mouth before nipping at his jawline, his hands moving to her scarred thighs, pulling her closer. Waves crash against the hull but they hardly notice, her lips returning to his as one of her hands grip the ladder behind her, her other arm safely wrapped around his neck. Eleanor can feel him hard against her inner thigh, and it reminds her of that afternoon in the lake when they ran away from the police and ended up at Teach's cabin.

The man's face flashes through her mind and she exhales sharply, breaking the kiss.

"Something wrong?"

His voice is laced with desire. It sends a shiver down her spine.

But there's still just a tiny little bit of despair rising in her chest. "I just thought we left all our problems behind in LA. But that was just the beginning, wasn't it? The threats just keep appearing. Teach, and now Rogers. Will we ever have peace?"

He narrows his eyes at her question, shaking his head.

"Growing up so sheltered this time has made you soft. Have you forgotten? Danger is nothing new to you."

She scoffs at his words, legs tightening around his hips a little. Her hand leaves the ladder, joining the other one at the nape of his neck. "I'm not really used to it anymore."

"Well then, you better start to work on that." The words come out sounding harsher than he intended and she gives him a sharp look. Charles sighs heavily, pressing a kiss to her forehead. The salt of the ocean mixes with the taste of her skin, and he finds it deeply addicting. "As for any threats to you... I'm still willing to offer you their severed heads. So you have nothing to worry about."

_"Even of it's your own uncle?"_ The question comes to her mind and she almost says it out loud, but decides not to.

"I'll keep us safe." Charles says and she gives him a look. He chuckles before speaking again. "I'll keep us safe with my  _strength_ , and you'll keep us safe with your  _brain_. We'll be just fine."

"That's better."

A stupid half smirk comes to his lips and she rolls her eyes before kissing him again.

This time, things begin to escalate more quickly and when she realizes it he's already inside her. Eleanor shivers again as he groans against her neck before sucking a mark into the sensitive skin.

Even though she's a little breathless already, her scoff is automatic when she feels him smirk against her neck.

She already knows what he's going to say.

"Now you have  _two_  fathers to hide these from."

* * *

A half smile refuses to leaves his lips while Charles snuffs out the candles before climbing into the bunk beside Eleanor, their hair still wet from the sea. She's already sound asleep and he presses a lingering kiss to her shoulder. Again, the salt mixing with the unique taste of her skin makes him sigh in satisfaction.

She hardly even stirs when he pulls her closer, her back pressed to his front.

_How lucky he is._

He's still a pirate. And now he can fall asleep every night holding his most precious treasure in his arms.

And nothing will ever take this away from him.

As Charles falls asleep, the ocean gently cradling his ship, one thought refuses to leave his mind.

_I'll keep us safe._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure someone was going to ask, so I'm just going to say it now.
> 
> Will Silverflint happen at some point? The answer is a big "I have no frickin idea". And I'm not saying this only to avoid giving spoilers, but because I actually don't know. I have most of Flint's future planned in my head, and what I can say is that there will be plot twists... but as for Silverflint, I don't know. I always had a soft spot for them, I won't lie, but yeah... I guess we'll just have to wait and see ;)
> 
> Oh and also, I just realized I never showed what Max does for a living in her new life. And I don't know how that happened, because I had it planned ever since the beginning of the story. But yeah, as seen in this chapter, she is now a nurse ;)


	4. Grand Opening

"She keeps looking at you." Charles says in her ear and she rolls her eyes briefly, trying not to meet Caroline's stare. "Maybe you should go talk to her. At least try."

Eleanor just gives him a look, sipping on her cocktail as they lean against the counter.

The tavern is finally complete, after three long months, and tonight is the grand opening she's been planning since Charles gave this place back to her.

Even though she was anxious before, now all her previous fears seem stupid.

Her business is a success already.

It attracted more people than she expected, to the point the tavern is almost not big enough to fit all of them.

Tourists and locals mingle together, many of them coming over to congratulate her for her brilliant idea, saying they never saw anything like this before.

It still feels a little weird to see all those people in this place, wearing modern clothes.

Not to mention the music.

She left Madi in charge of the playlist. Her step sister managed to find many songs from their time, and mixed them with modern ones.

She really likes the result, and it seems her customers do too.

People are dancing and drinking all around, and even though Eleanor knows she's not dealing with pirates anymore, she remains tense. Ready to jump into action and show them who's the boss when fights start to erupt.

Even though she knows this is an unlikely possibility.

"Relax." Charles says in her ear again, bringing one arm around her waist. "Your new customers are far more civilized than the old ones. You have nothing to worry about."

"This is your own fault."

He raises an eyebrow in question and she shrugs, giving him a half smirk. "Whose crew gave me the most problems in the past?"

He just rolls his eyes, downing the contents of his shot glass. "About Caroline..."

Eleanor shakes her head, interrupting his words. "I don't know, alright? I just feel so weird. Ever since we left LA, I feel sort of distant from her. There's a blockage... I don't know why."

Charles lowers his eyes to his glass and a soft frown comes to her face.

"What's on your mind?"

"You don't know how lucky your are to have your mother, Eleanor. You really should be thankful for that, instead of pushing her away like this."

Her eyes soften and she presses the briefest kiss to his lips. "I know, and I feel awful for acting like this. But I guess it will take me a while. It's been two lives growing up without her, Charles."

He just gives her a slight nod and she brings her fingers to his jawline, hesitating for a moment. "I wish Naomi was here with us too."

He sighs heavily, averting his eyes.

But she sees that he agrees with her words completely.

Just as she's about to speak again, a certain newcomer catches her eye.

And she practically shoves her glass into Charles' hands before rushing towards the woman, a wide smile on her lips.

Max's laughter sounds like the sweetest music to her ears as she throws her arms around her neck. Her friend returns the hug, holding her close.

"Look at this place... I admit I wasn't expecting such a perfect copy. But it's just so amazing." Both of them are still smiling when they pull away, and Max reaches for her hand, locking their fingers together. "And from the looks of it, business is going well already... I'm so happy for you. You have no idea."

"And you have no idea how happy I am that you're finally here. Missed you."

Eleanor is unable to stop smiling as her friend reaches to caress her face.

But soon her attention moves elsewhere.

Her eyes lock with Anne's as the redhead leans against the wall by Jack's side, near the doors to the office. A warm smile comes to her lips and she lets go of Eleanor's hand.

"We'll talk more later."

The blonde playfully rolls her eyes as she walks away before greeting Idelle too.

"How was your flight?"

"Ugh, boring. I thought I was going to like planes, but that was not the case. There was an old man on the seat behind ours, he snored the whole time."

Eleanor chuckles at her words and the dark haired beauty gives her a conspiring little smirk, reaching to brush her fingers over a certain sensitive spot on her neck.

"Nice work covering this one up. It's starting to show now, though."

Her heart skips a beat and she glances over at her two father figures as they talk to Charles by the counter.

"Do you have any makeup in here?"

She nods in response to Idelle's question, gesturing towards the big doors of the office. "In my bag. Come on."

* * *

Sarah struggles to sit down, the 8 month pregnancy belly making the task almost impossible. The man on the other couch in front of her shows no sign of wanting to help, but it's not like she expected him to.

But it doesn't matter.

After one month of searching, she finally found him.

The fake eye sends shivers down her spine. He remains silent, staring at her with a bored look on his face.

There's something so strange about this man. He's so different from any other she's met before.

He exudes danger, and she almost regrets calling him here. Her hands move to her stomach and she holds it protectively.

"Mr. Low. I'm glad you could come."

He just rolls his eyes, reaching to grab a piece of her crystal decorations from the coffee table before inspecting it curiously.

Sarah tries hard to push away the discomfort, doing her best to appear brave. Woodes told her years ago that when dealing with this sort of people, the last thing one should do is show fear.

"I imagine you know already why I called you."

He snorts, harshly setting the crystal piece back on the coffee table. She's not sure how it doesn't break.

"It has something to do with your ex-husband, I suppose."

She nods at his words, raising her chin. "Correct. You already know what happened to him, of course?"

"Whole city knows. About the coma, I mean. What they don't know is who did this to him."

Her heart skips a beat. Things are going exactly as she hoped they would. But Sarah knows she needs to play this man.

So she feigns ignorance, frowning at him.

"What do you mean? Do you know?"

A sarcastic little smirk comes to his lips. "Of course I do. I know the whole story behind all of this."

She raises an eyebrow, swallowing hard.

"Well then... Enlighten me."

Ned laughs at her words, shaking his head. "What's in it for me?"

"I have money to pay for your help."

He stays silent for a moment, looking around the fine living room, filled with expensive furniture.

A glint comes to his good eye as he meets Sarah's stare again.

"There was a criminal in this city. Your ex-husband and his brother were after him and his two accomplices for years, never succeeding in catching them. They didn't have their names, they didn't have their faces. Well, this man ended up getting involved with Eleanor Guthrie. They kept seeing each other even while she was engaged to Rogers. He found out about that, somehow. So one night, after I drank too much and said things I shouldn't have..." He trails off, that cruel half smirking not leaving his lips for a second. And Sarah is starting to feel apprehensive. She has a feeling there's something coming, something she doesn't know.

Something she really doesn't want to find out.

A gasp leaves her lips when the baby kicks, hard, and she gets up from the couch, stretching as best as she could.

" _Aiden_." She whispers, caressing her stomach. "Mommy is taking care of something, baby."

To her horror, Ned gets to his feet too and begins to make his way over to her.

She tries hard not to show fear.

"You think you're smart, don't you? I can see right through you, lady. You knew all along that I know about this whole story, about your ex-husband's aggressor."

She clenches her jaw, slowly making her way closer to the kitchen's door. If he tries anything, she will run to lock herself in there and call Mason.

And to have a knife in her hands, just in case.

"His brother probably told you... But there's something he kept from you."

As he takes a few steps closer, Sarah's fear wins and she tries to make a run for the kitchen.

But it was too soon, she was still too far. And of course, her current state doesn't let her move too fast.

Ned has her pinned to the wall in a heartbeat, his arm on her neck. "Do you know what it's like to spend three days bound to a chair, receiving shocks from two idiots in business suits?"

Her eyes widen.

_Surely, he can't be talking about..._

"Your dear little ex-husband and his brother had a damn good time torturing answers out of me-"

"No!" She snaps, trying to shake her head. Her lower lip trembles, tears burning in her eyes. "Woodes didn't-"

Ned presses his arm to her neck more firmly, Sarah's blood turning to ice as she feels her swollen stomach touching his.

"He tortured me-"

"No-"

"Yes, oh  _yes_!"

His stare is so cold. Briefly, she wonder if a man like this can feel. If he would be capable of hurting a pregant woman.

She's not sure if she wants to know the answer.

"You're completely blind, aren't you? Someone really should show you the truth." Ned tells her and she considers the idea of stomping on his foot, quickly deciding against it. He would quickly get the upper hand again, and it's better not to enrage him any further.

He just stares at her face for a moment, and horror fills her eyes as he looks down at her stomach.

A dry laugh leaves his lips.

"This kid you're carrying... It's his, isn't it?"

_Oh God, please no._

She's frozen in fear, unable to answer, unable to say anything.

_If something happens to her little Aiden..._

To her surprise, Ned lets go of her neck and she gasps for air, only now realizing how badly she needed it. Sarah immediately moves away from him, holding her stomach protectively.

"Tell you what..." He begins, casually inspecting one of the paintings on the wall. It's as if nothing happened. "...I know you were going to ask me to find Rogers' agressor for you. And you're lucky. I have a debt to settle with that man. And with his little blonde plaything as well. So yes. Count on my services. One condition though."

She refuses to avert her eyes from his, still shaking in fear and not saying a word.

"I will give Charles to you and those respectable men of the law, so you can do whatever you want with him." His voice is dripping with bitter sarcasm, a dark look coming to his face as he says the next words. "But Eleanor is mine."

Sarah swallows hard, heart beating frantically in her chest while she forces herself to nod at him.

"Deal."

Her voice is barely audible, fear evident in her tone. It seems to amuse Ned and he chuckles at her, making her gasp in horror as he reaches into her pocket. But all he does is grab her phone, saving a number on it before returning the device to its previous location.

She feels Aiden moving restlessly inside her as Ned tilts her chin up with his index finger briefly.

"Pleasure doing business with you."

Sarah remains frozen, even as he walks away from her.

Even as he leaves the house.

After what feels like an eternity she breaks, sliding down to the floor as sobs wrack her body.

What the  _hell_  did she just get herself into? In her rush to see Charles behind bars, she probably just made the most reckless decision of her life.

What would  _he_  think?

Wiping her tears on her sleeve, she gets to her feet, rushing to grab her car keys from the coffee table.

She's a mess, but she doesn't care. All she knows is that she's scared to death.

And that she needs Woodes.

* * *

Eleanor gives her a half smirk as Idelle finishes retouching the foundation on her neck, the hickey now fully covered again.

"Thanks. Scott would give me hell if he saw it."

"Is he really that innocent? Come on, I'm sure he knows what you and Charles do in the privacy of your cabin."

She chuckles briefly, putting her makeup supplies back inside her bag. "He does know. But another thing is for him to see it. He would keep giving me those disapproving looks."

Idelle laughs as they leave the office, taking a look around while Eleanor locks the double doors behind them.

"I'll go get drunk now. See you later."

She smiles briefly, nodding as the dark haired beauty walked away.

Already tipsy herself, she takes a look around the place, finding Flint drinking at a table, in a shady corner of the tavern. One of her eyebrows raise as she notices that John is there talking to him.

But soon an overly excited Madi rushes to their table, joking about something with Flint before dragging the con man to go dance with her. It looks like she already had a few drinks too and Eleanor doesn't fail to notice Scott and Agatha watching her closely, as if she was still a teenager in her first party. Anne and Max are nowhere to be seen and Charles is drinking with Jack, so she decides to go join her newest father figure at his shady little spot.

"Not having fun?"

He forces himself to smile at her as she sits by his side, reaching for the rum bottle and the glass John left behind.

"As much as I can."

She hears the sarcasm in his voice, shaking her head briefly before taking a drink. "Why don't you go mingle with the others?"

A quick grimace comes to his face. "You know me better than that."

A chuckle leaves her lips and she bumps his shoulder with hers. They drink in silence for a while, both perfectly content to just watch the customers partying. Eleanor doesn't think she will ever get used to seeing all those people wearing modern clothes in this place.

It doesn't hurt, unlike she thought it would.

She's at peace.

And completely happy.

When people start to leave, she glances at Flint's face, about to speak. But she's interrupted when Scott, Agatha, Madi and John come say goodbye to them before heading out of the tavern.

A soft scowl comes to her face.

"It's useless, you know? Fighting against feelings."

Flint frowns at her slurred words, looking away from his glass and into those blue-green eyes. She offers him a smile, shrugging briefly. "Trust me, I tried for a long time and never succeeded."

"What are you talking about?"

"I see the way you look at John. In fact, I noticed it three hundred years ago already."

His heart skips a beat and he shakes his head. "You're drunk. Go lay down."

She scoffs, reaching for the bottle again and pouring herself another shot. He narrows his eyes at her as she downs the rum as if it was water.

Just like a rebellious teenager.

"I'm not Scott. If you want to drink until you pass out, be my guest, I won't stop you."

Eleanor rolls her eyes at his words. "Think about what I said-"

"Are you seriously encouraging me to stay with Silver?"

"God,  _no_. Madi would be devastated, and I don't want to see my sister suffering."

A scowl comes to his face. "Then what are you trying to say?"

She shrugs, leaning her head on her hand as more people leave the tavern. It must be close to dawn already.

"What I'm saying is that you really should start working on your feelings. I see it clearly. You're still clinging to Thomas, even if you say you're not. But he's gone. He's not coming back. You need to break free. Or you will never be happy."

Flint almost laughs at this surreal situation. He's sitting at the tavern, receiving advice about his feelings from Eleanor, of all people.

And a  _very_  drunk Eleanor at that.

_Is this real life?_

"Looks like this time I'm the one who will have to drag your drunk ass to bed."

An indignant looks comes to her face. "I am perfectly sober, thank you very much."

Her words come out so slurred and he needs to fight hard against the urge to laugh.

It's strange to see her like this.

But she needed this tonight.

When she's distracted pouring herself another shot, he makes a signal for Charles to come over. The criminal leaves his spot by the counter, frowning softly at the uncharacteristic smile he receives from Eleanor.

"She's absolutely drunk." Flint tells him, getting to his feet. "Take care of her."

He watches the older man leave the tavern before his eyes settle on Eleanor. Raising an eyebrow at the state she's in, he sighs heavily before unceremoniously lifting her from the chair in his arms.

She seems absolutely outraged by this.

"Party's over!" He says to the last four drunk men that still remain in the tavern, talking to Jack.

His friend represses the urge to laugh at the drunk blonde in his arms, ushering the men out the door.

"I want to sleep in here." Eleanor slurs, face pressed to his neck and he rolls his eyes while Jack makes his way over to the counter, grimacing at the mess.

"Go get her to bed. I'll take care of everything here then leave for the ship."

Charles just nods at him before heading over to the big double doors.

"Goodnight, Jack!" Eleanor calls out as the criminal fumbles to get the keys from her pocket without letting her fall in the process.

Once they're inside, she squirms in his arms.

"Put me down at this instant."

Again, he rolls his eyes, setting her on her feet before locking the doors behind them. She walks over to the partition, almost tripping on her own feet. A frustrated groan leaves her lips as she keeps failing to open the partition so she could get to bed, until Charles comes over and does it for her.

After guiding her over to the bed, he helps her out of her clothes, giving her a stern look as she turns around with a very familiar glint in her eyes.

He lets her kiss him, unable to resist for now. The rum on her tongue only makes him want her even more, his hands moving over her naked body as she claws at his clothes.

Charles doesn't know how, but she manages to free him from his shirt and jacket. But as her clumsy hands move to unbutton his jeans, he catches her wrists.

"Sleep." Is all he says, the glow from the lamp at the desk barely enough to let him see her rolling her eyes.

"I'm fine."

"You can barely keep your eyes open."

He pushes her away and she drops to the mattress, the room spinning around her for a moment.

The effects of her last rum shot start to kick in and she scowls, laying down and bringing a hand to her forehead while Charles finishes discarding his clothes. He sits on the edge of the mattress, watching her curiously.

"Think you're going to throw up?"

She just shakes her head, opening her eyes.

_Bad idea._

The ceiling spins above her and she lets out a heartbreaking moan.

Feeling as if she was on a rollercoaster, Eleanor reaches for the pirate beside her, pride completely forgotten at this point.

"Just need something to hold on to."

His face softens and he closes the curtain, isolating the bed from the rest of the office before laying down and gathering her in his arms.

He knows full well what she's going through.

_All those nights alone in his ship, after they drifted apart... When her face was haunting him and he drowned himself in alcohol. By the end of the night he would be laying on his bunk, the cabin spinning around him. And all he wanted was her._

Charles sighs heavily, pushing the painful memories away and pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead.

"What brought this on, lady Honeypot?"

She shakes her head, hiding her face in his neck. He notices she's trembling.

And even though he's not sure if she's cold, Charles reaches to pull the blanket over their bodies.

"I just needed a break." He concentrates on her slurred words, doing his best to understand what she's saying. "I needed to  _forget_."

His heart clenches. "Forget what?"

"Our problems."

He thinks he hears her sob softly.

But it's not possible, is it?

She can't be crying.

"Charles, I'm  _scared_."

He scowls, pulling her away to look into her eyes. "Of what?"

"Of what's to come."

"Somalia?" He holds her closer, caressing her back softly. "Eleanor, I already said I won't let him hurt you. He won't touch you. I promise."

She shakes her head briefly, clinging to him and burying her face on his chest.

"I just have a really, really bad feeling. This... strange fear. As if something really  _horrible_  will happen."

"To you?"

"I don't know... I'm just so fucking scared."

And his heart is breaking.

Not sure what to do to comfort her, Charles settles for kissing the top of her head and holding her impossibly closer.

Minutes drag by until he speaks again.

"Since when have you been feeling like this? Why did you have to drink almost a full bottle of rum to be able to tell me?"

His question is met with silence.

And he notices she's now breathing softly, fast asleep in his arms.

Sighing heavily, he thinks about what she said, knowing that there's no chance they will talk about this tomorrow.

Eleanor will either act as if it never happened, or she won't even remember.

And he would be lying if he said her words didn't make him feel... a bit unsettled.

He knows she has sort of a sixth sense.

She had a nightmare that was basically a premonition about her death in the past life.

What if the universe is trying to warn her about something?

Charles shakes his head.

It must be nothing.

He presses his chin to the top of her head and closes his eyes, feeling sleep starting to overcome him.

_It's probably nothing._

* * *

Ned tosses his cigarette away before closing the window. Ever since he left Sarah's house, he's unable to stop himself from smirking once in a while.

All he wants is to begin following his plan already, but he holds back. There's still a lot he needs to figure out first, he has things to take care of.

But once everything is ready, he leaves.

With a certain destination already.

Because he knows  _exactly_ where these two idiots went.

_And now he remembers **everything.**_


	5. Awakening

"Remember this. Always handle a firearm as if it's loaded, even when it's not. And when it is, never leave it unattended."

She nods at Charles' words while looking down at the modern weapon in her hands. He just gave it to her, and is now teaching her about gun safety. It's been two weeks since the grand opening and she now spends most of her days here at the tavern, coming in the afternoon and leaving late at night. On week days, things are slower and she gets to go back to the Ranger earlier.

And since Eleanor spends more time out of his sight now, he procured a gun for her. So she will have something to defend herself with when he's not nearby to protect her.

_Just like Woodes should have done._

They have already set a date for their trip. In just one week, they will leave for Somalia.

And with each passing day, her anxiety only gets worse. That weird fear has been haunting her nonstop, growing stronger and stronger as she desperately tries to ignore it.

During the past few nights, it's been common for her to leave Charles' arms when he's asleep, then go up the ladder to get some air and watch the waves, because she's been having trouble sleeping.

Will he be able to keep Teach from hurting her, as he promised?

But strangely, this is not what's been keeping her awake at night. Not her worries about her own safety.

She fears for Charles.

And she has no idea why.

"Is this really necessary?" Scott asks with a frown as he watches the pair, sitting on the edge of the office's desk. He's not too happy about Eleanor having a gun. "She has the knife I gave her. Isn't that enough already?"

Charles meets his eyes with a dark look on his face. "She died because she didn't know how to fire a weapon properly. That alone is already enough of a reason for her to have a gun now, a gun she knows how to use."

Scott sighs heavily, looking away from them. Eleanor is still studying her newest possession closely, and a soft frown comes to Charles' face.

She's been so silent lately, and he really doesn't like it, even though he understands.

He leaves the tavern after making sure she knew everything about gun safety, walking towards the harbor. The sight of his ship still brings a pleasant feeling to his chest, no matter how many hours he spends admiring it.

She's just so beautiful.

_Loses only to Eleanor._

Instead of heading back to his home, he decides to take a walk on the beach, trying his best to clear his mind.

The closer they get to the day of their journey, the stranger it feels.

The fact that he's going to see Teach again hasn't really sank in yet.

Just like the fact that the man is his uncle now. Or that he saved his life back when he was still nothing but a tiny newborn... But in order to do so, he had to abandon him. Take him to a place where he spent some of the worst moments of this new life.

Charles just doesn't know what to feel.

What will it be like to be face to face with his old mentor again? After everything that happened?

And how is he going to react when he sees Eleanor by his side?

He knows he can't let him see her right after they arrive. So he's been making plans with Mary. She and Billy will help. They will hide Eleanor in the safe house while he goes to see Teach. Only after they talk he will let him know about her.

Charles lets out a heavy sigh.

This is going to be super stressful. He knows it already.

But he's also really looking forward to this journey. Sail the seas again... This time, with Eleanor by his side, in his bed every night.

This is what he wanted the most in the past life, his very own definition of paradise.

And now he will finally have it.

Also, he's eager to be among pirates again. To see what the modern ones are like. The empire his uncle has built in Somalia over the last two decades.

And of course, he can't wait to see a certain annoying little ball of energy with big, bright eyes that look identical to his own.

Charles will never admit out loud, just how fucking  _much_  he misses his baby sister.

Ever since he watched that lifeboat being rowed away from the beach with Davina in it, all those months ago, he's been unable to shake this weird, uncomfortable feeling, that she should be close to him. It's incredibly unsettling not to have her in sight, to know that she's oceans away, where he can't protect her.

He will need to talk to Mary about this situation.

They can't move to Somalia, of course, he would never do that to Eleanor. They can't keep sailing to Africa every single time he wants to see his sister either. Maybe he could convince Mary to move back to Nassau with them. Surely it would be a better place to raise a child, he only worries it could bring back painful memories from Davina's past.

And if she doesn't agree with his idea, they could establish some sort of "co-parenting" routine. He could have Davina for a few months then take her back to Mary, and then keep repeating this process.

Whatever he does, Charles knows he needs to keep cool and avoid fighting with his old lover over his sister's custody. The last thing he needs is a bad relationship with her.

It wouldn't be good for Davina.

There's so much he needs to think about now. It's amazing how much having a child in his life has made him more mature... In parts.

He stops for a moment, glancing over his shoulder in the direction of the tavern.

A little smile tugs at his lips.

He couldn't be more proud of his Queen. Her new/old business barely started and it's already a huge success.

But it's not like he expected any less from her and her brilliant mind.

Charles scoffs as he thinks about something, starting to walk again.

She's so good at this whole thing, an image of a perfect woman, a woman who has everything together and full control of her life. And while that may be true, her customers have no idea how huge the chaos inside her is right now.

She can't bring herself to approach her own mother. She's currently filled with fear and is unable to talk about it with him.

She keeps bottling emotions up for as long as she possibly can.

Sitting on the sand, Charles stares at the familiar sea, his heart clenching.

He knows Eleanor is going through a tough time. He knows she's a mess on the inside, and it pains him that she refuses to open up and let him help her organize it.

But what hurts the most is to think about the sources of her distress.

It's not just Somalia, or even the whole Caroline situation.

He overheard a conversation she had with Max in their cabin, just before she and Idelle went back to Los Angeles.

She asked about Sarah, about the baby's due date.

He's trying his very best not to feel angry with her, not to feel hurt. He really is trying to be understanding. It's not her fault that she feels so curious about this child. It's the only link she has to the baby she lost, after all.

But while he tries to keep that in mind, sometimes the resentment is just too strong and he needs to get away from her for a while, in order to avoid a fight.

And while Charles couldn't possibly be happier about his life right now, he had no idea this was going to be so damn hard. Living with Eleanor is really turning out to be one of the biggest challenges he ever faced. Especially considering the emotional rollercoaster she's been going through lately.

There are nights when she doesn't even let him touch her.

And others when she's insatiable, keeping him awake for hours on end before finally collapsing by his side and passing out from the sweet exhaustion.

_Not that he minds these nights._

All he hopes is that once that damn child is born she will forget about this whole story. It's uncomfortable as hell to know that she's still linked to that bastard, in a way, constantly thinking about his unborn son.

It's also painful. Because Charles knows she's doing this because of a void in her heart that hurts her deeply.

_What will it take to fill that void?_

An image flashes in his mind. A tiny newborn with dark hair like his own and big, stubborn blue-green eyes like Eleanor's.

A scowl comes to his face immediately and he shakes his head, actually scared as hell that he thought about this possibility, even for such a short moment.

_This is not like him._

He has no idea what the hell is wrong with him. All he knows is that he will simply pretend this strange moment didn't happen at all.

* * *

That night Eleanor takes a look around the tavern, eyes lingering on a table near the entrance, where her pirate sits in silence with the narguile they bought a few weeks ago in front of him.

It makes so much smoke, and she tries to ignore the shiver that goes down her spine every single time she sees him blow out those thick clouds.

Soon Jack and Anne make their way inside the tavern too, joining their leader at his table, looking tired and defeated.

Raising an eyebrow, she makes her way over to the trio.

"Where have you two been all day?"

Jack sighs heavily as the redhead starts to smoke too, shaking his head. "We managed to find a spiritist house, and had a few regressions."

A puzzled look comes to her face. "Why? We have our memories back already."

"Not all of them." Charles says and she looks at him. He doesn't meet her eyes. "At least not in Jack and Anne's case. They just remember their past lives up to a certain point, then there's nothing."

Jack nods, tapping his fingers on the table. "The last thing we remember is our ship, our flag unfurling right after we accepted a new crew member, some young boy called Mark... something, I don't remember. After that, nothing. No memories. We have no idea where we went, what we did, or what happened to us."

She raises her eyebrows at that. "How odd... And the regressions, did you get to see any of those occult memories?"

"No... Only moments we remember already."

Eleanor frowns, her curiosity piqued now, and only growing stronger when Charles speaks again. "Anne said she had strange dreams. She saw Mary. Dressed in pirate clothes."

"It was my past life. I knew her. I just have no idea how."

Blue-green eyes linger on the little brute after she says these words, and something clicks on Eleanor's mind. "Back at the museum... I saw stuff about a female pirate called Mary."

"Yes, and that was definitely her. It was a shock for us too." Jack says and her mind starts coming up with ideas.

"Maybe if we got Mary to recover her memories too, she could help with yours."

Charles scoffs, shaking his head. "Good luck with that. Mary's skeptical as fuck. She would probably just laugh at this whole past lives story."

"Well, I was skeptical as fuck too, at first. And look at me now." He just shrugs, drawing more smoke into his mouth and she thinks about something. "And Max? Doesn't she remember what happened?"

"She has even less memories. The last thing she remembers is receiving the news of your death. And Idelle only remembers as much as we do." Jack tells her, rubbing his forehead while she has another idea.

"Well, what about the museum? We could go back there and read more about your story. Maybe it could jog up your memory-"

"Those stories are a bunch of crap." Anne seethes, interrupting her words with a sour look on her face. "They say that Charles was arrested in some Island and hanged in Jamaica. Not here, thanks to a stupid blonde bitch and her petty thirst for revenge. So what credibility does history have?"

Eleanor raises her chin in defiance, pretending not to be affected in the slightest by the harsh words. Anne always insists on taunting her about the past every damn chance she gets, and it  _hurts_ , every single time.

But no one needs to know about that.

Unlike most times, Charles doesn't show any sort of reaction to what the redhead says.

And that's strange. He usually gives Anne a sharp look or growls in warning when she talks to her like that. But this time, he doesn't look away from the coin in his fingers, simply blowing out a cloud of the thick smoke.

Not even looking at her face.

His lack of response makes Eleanor sigh before leaving the table to go take care of her customers.

Her heart is so heavy.

She can feel her lover's eyes on her as she works, but avoids looking over at his table. Scott notices her sour mood, like always, but he knows better than to try asking her what's wrong now.

Hours pass, she's cleaning a table and some customers are starting to leave already when a high pitched voice makes her skin crawl.

The sickening laugh, already so familiar by now, reaches her ears and she grips the empty glass in her hand tighter.

Sure enough, as she looks over at the trio's table again, there's a woman talking to Charles.

Her name is Zamira, she's a gorgeous local, with skin as dark as the ocean at night and perfect, full lips.

She found the tavern last week, with her curvy, toned body and seductive eyes. And she immediately took a liking to  _her_  Charles.

At first, Eleanor didn't really mind it, simply making it clear that he was not available. But Zamira didn't seem to care about that. She kept coming here almost every night, looking for him. And when he wasn't around, she actually had the audacity to ask Eleanor about him.

Jack meets her eyes across the tavern with a smirk on his face, mouthing the words " _game on_ " before winking at her as quickly as possible, so Anne wouldn't see.

_Game on, indeed._

She raises her chin high, heading over to the table with a regal stride. And as she gets closer, she can hear the words leaving the local's mouth.

"...waiting all night for blondie to finish working when you can just take  _me_ to that big ship of yours instead?"

Her blood boils.

And things only get even worse when she sees Charles smirking at the woman.

She glances at Scott over her shoulder, her eyes telling him to take care of the tavern for tonight.

As she reaches the table and grabs a hold of her lover's arm, he meets her eyes for the first time this evening.

"Outside.  _Now_."

Her tone leaves no room for argument and he rolls his eyes before getting to his feet. Giving Zamira a murderous glare, Eleanor leads the way out of the place, the criminal following close behind.

When the cool night air hits their skin, the ocean breeze blowing on their hair, she keeps her back to him, jaw clenched hard.

"The fuck do you want?"

A scoff leaves her lips and she finally turns around with an indignant look on her face. "What do I want? I want you to stop acting like a lowlife scoundrel, thank you very much!"

He sighs heavily, starting the walk back to his ship. "I was just messing with Zamira, and you know that."

"But she doesn't! She probably thought you were accepting her advances, and that can not happen!"

She doesn't care if she's making a scene. There's almost no one near the beach at this time of the night anyway, and her rage only grows as she walks by his side and he remains silent when they reach the harbor, not even looking at her.

"I don't want to be seen as a fool. And that is exactly what is going to happen if you don't stop with this unacceptable behavior, right now!"

He finally snaps, stopping in the middle of the pier and meeting her eyes, anger written all over his face. "Than how about you stop obsessing over your ex-husband's unborn child?"

She frowns, pretending not to know what he was talking about. "What the fuck do you mean by that?"

"You know  _exactly_  what I mean. I heard you and Max talking in our cabin before she left for LA. You asked her for fucking pictures of that baby when he's born, Eleanor!"

She's speechless for a moment, but quickly regains her composure. "That is no excuse for cheating-"

"And who the hell said I was going to cheat?"

For a brief second she's amazed that they're fighting about  _this_ , of all things.

Just like any normal couple.

Neither of them ever thought this could happen one day.

Not wanting to attract any attention to them and their quarrel, she walks all the way to the end of the pier with heavy, purposeful steps. Thankfully that stupid new crew of his hasn't moved to the ship yet, so the deck is peaceful and empty as they head to the helm before he lifts the hatch door so they can go down the ladder to their cabin.

He throws his brown leather jacket and green shirt to the floor in a careless manner. Eleanor scoffs at that, rolling her eyes as he sits behind his desk and reaches for his cigarette pack.

"Don't you think you've had enough smoke in your lungs for the night already?"

He just lights one cigarette and takes a drag before blowing the smoke out in her direction, eyes locked with hers, a challenging look on his face. She shakes his head at him with a clenched jaw, trying to ignore the shivers caused by his action.

"God, sometimes I feel as if I'm  _raising_ you."

He rolls his eyes in response, a sentence coming to the tip of his tongue.

_"Then use that as an incentive to forget about that stupid brat you lost."_

He wants to say it. He really wants to say it.

But that would be crossing a line. It would be too much. He knows it would hurt her deeply, and that is the last thing he wants. Besides, he would be attacking her child too.

And Charles promised her that he would never do that.

So he bites his tongue, clenching his fist to control his temper.

He's seething with anger, the sight of her only makes it even worse... Until she meets his eyes and strips down to her underwear.

Charles narrows his eyes at her as she heads over to his chair with an unreadable expression on her face. She gives him no time to react, snatching the cigarette from his fingers and extinguishing it on the ashtray while climbing on his lap, moving so she was straddling him. Her eyes stay locked with his all the while.

"Be honest with me. Did you think about Zamira's offer, even for the briefest moment?"

She's trying her best to sound menacing and cold. But he effortlessly recognizes the jealousy on her tone.

And it's fucking  _adorable_.

His hands come to her hips, his grip almost hard enough to bruise.

"What do you think?"

"I think you want to die." She says, fingers wrapping around his neck. He lets out a brief, dry laugh.

_That's the woman he loves._

Her face is mere inches away from his, she still has that angry scowl on her face. And he's unable to resist, bringing one hand to the back of her delicate neck and pulling her in for a bruising kiss.

She immediately digs her sharp nails into the skin of his shoulders. The action tears a low groan from his throat and he moves his arms to support her bottom, already starting to get up from the chair so he could take her to their bunk.

Eleanor has other plans.

She grabs the armrests of the chair with both hands, keeping him trapped in place. This causes him to break the kiss and stare at her face in question. Her expression is blank as she gets off his lap.

"Take the rest of your clothes off and lay on the bunk."

He just scoffs at her words, trying to reach for her again. She moves away, eyes filled with warning.

"And if you dare to disobey me, I will move to the spare cabin tonight and only come back to this one by the end of our journey to Somalia."

Seeing she was serious, he rolls his eyes but does as she requested, hungrily watching as she got rid of her underwear too.

She tells him to stay still before climbing on the bunk and straddling his hips. His hands move to her scarred thighs but she grabs them, pinning them above his head on the pillow.

"Keep them like this. You better not move until I give you permission."

Part of him wants to just grab her hips and flip them over on the mattress. Part of him wants to remind her he doesn't take orders from anyone.

But another part, a small, quiet part of him, wants her to keep doing this. He remembers when she did something similar before the memories came back, in her room at her father's mansion. When she felt as if she was losing control over her own life.

And in the past life, she also had her moments... Pretty much all of them fueled by jealousy.

_Like this one._

Charles immediately comes back to the present when she traces his birthmark with her tongue, one of her hands traveling down his chest and abdomen. His eyes fall closed and he's sure she sighs softly in satisfaction when her fingers wrap around his already hard length.

He doesn't have a word of complaint anymore.

Eleanor strokes him, watching his face closely, watching his eyelids droop and flutter, and this is always so damn  _empowering_.

The ship rocks as she begins to kiss her way down his neck, his chest, reveling in his groans every time she bites his skin. It's a slow process... Until she reaches his lower abdomen.

She wants to surprise him, deciding to abandon the pattern she was following until now, simply taking him into her mouth in a fluid motion.

It works.

There's a sharp intake of breath and then he growls out a loud curse.

A proud smirk tugs at her lips as she pulls away, letting her tongue flick out to lick a long trail down the entirety of his cock.

Charles grabs the edge of their bunk with one hand, jaw clenched hard. It's clearly taking him all his willpower not to touch her, not to grasp at her hair.

He finally opens his mouth to complain, impatience getting the best of him.

All Charles wants is to touch her. This is torture. She easily stops his protests, taking him deeper into her mouth again, swirling her tongue around him quickly.

He curses again when she moves so his right leg is between her thighs. A soft moan escapes against her will as Eleanor grinds against his skin, his hand gripping the sheets as he feels her wetness coating his leg.

It actually hurts to restrain the beast inside him, all he wants is to take control. She slowly moves along him, going as deeply as her mouth allows - and  _God_ , she's been getting so good at this lately - sucking and tonguing him just the way she knows he loves. It doesn't take too long until Eleanor has him on the edge, his grunts and groans turning into strangled moans and whispers of her name, and she knows his body language well enough...

Well enough to know when to stop.

If looks could kill, she would be dead and buried.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

She shrugs, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Call Zamira and ask her to come finish the job."

For a brief, torturous moment Charles worries she will actually be this cruel.

But then, to his immense relief, she moves to straddle his hips again. This time taking him inside her.

" _Fuck_." She curses through gritted teeth, wasting no time.

As Eleanor begins to set a rhythm, she leans in closer, her hair falling in a golden curtain that isolated their faces from the rest of the cabin

" _Mine_." She tells him, breathless, her tone barely above a whisper. His jaw clenches as she bites his birthmark.

"All mine." Another bite, this one considerably harder. " _Always_  mine."

He's sure the third bite has left a mark that will last for days.

And he will proudly display it for everyone to see.

"Take what you need." Charles grunts out the words, knowing she was close thanks to the increasingly desperation of her movements. And sure enough, within seconds she's flying over that sweet edge, mustering up the strength to give him a barely perceptible nod that tells him he can move.

His arms immediately close around her, pulling her to his chest as he thrusts up violently, biting her shoulder hard when the waves of his release come crashing over him as well.

As the seconds pass his arms around her relax, the tight grip turning into an embrace, his fingers drawing patterns on her skin as they catch their breath.

Eleanor's mouth remains slightly parted as she blinks heavily, grasping a handful of his hair.

"Some things don't change." She frowns at his words, meeting his eyes. He shrugs, clearly trying to repress a smirk. "This is exactly how you used to react three centuries ago, whenever a whore got too close to me."

She narrows her eyes at him, watching his face for a moment before sighing and laying her head on his chest again.

So he wouldn't see her smile.

"We should really do something about that ego of yours. It's getting way too out of hand."

Charles scoffs at that, staring up at the wooden ceiling while caressing her naked back. "Are you going to wait until you think I'm asleep and leave the bunk to go spend some time on deck tonight, like you've been doing lately?"

She stiffens in his arms for a moment, clearly uncomfortable at being caught. "I just need some air sometimes."

He lets out a brief chuckle before pressing a kiss to her temple. "Go to sleep now."

Still laying on top of his chest, the blonde lets her tired eyes fall closed.

"Eleanor?"

"Hmm?"

He hesitates, and she's half asleep already when his voice reaches her ears again.

"There is nobody else in this world that I'd rather be holding in my arms right now."

Her heart flutters.

And she really needs to do something about these stupid butterflies in her stomach.

For now, though, Eleanor simply allows herself to tangle her hands in the pirate's hair and fall asleep with a smile on her face.

She feels warm. Safe and loved.

And surprisingly, when Charles is the one to give her these feelings, it doesn't scare her.

_Not anymore._

* * *

"Go home, Sarah."

She sighs at Mason's words, reluctantly getting up from her chair.

"Are you sure you're okay? You seem more an edge than usual. Did something happen?"

She immediately shakes her head, scared of what Ned could do to her or Aiden if she let Mason know about their conversations.

"I'm just so depressed. Aiden's due date is in three weeks. I really wish he could be awake to see his newborn son."

"We both do. Don't lose hope, alright? He can still wake up before the birth."

She nods, giving her ex-husband one last glance before repeating the same ritual she performs every time she has to leave him.

_Kiss her fingertips, then gently press them to his dry lips._

Mason watches as she walks out the door, sighing heavily while making his way to the now vacant chair.

A few seconds drag by as he sits there, with his face buried in his hands, the steady bip from the machines already so familiar to him.

But suddenly, there's something different. A strangled, weak sound reaches his ears.

_Could it be..._

Slowly, he lifts his head, thinking he must be imagining things.

_It can't be..._

Blue eyes identical to his own stare back at him.

Eyes he was starting to think he would never see again.

A face so pale... But now he finally looks  _alive_  once more.

Mason's eyes widen and he leaves his spot by his brother's bed, running to the door of the hospital room.

"Sarah, come back here!"

* * *

_There's something squeezing her._

_It hurts like hell, and she feels so trapped, unable to breathe. Her clothes are heavy, what is she wearing?_

_Glancing down at her feet, Eleanor sees a long, white skirt covering her entire legs._

_"You are making me so proud tonight."_

_Her father's voice._

_He's standing right beside her, with a smile on his face, wearing an expensive suit._

_Why can't she see things properly?_

_It's as if there's something in front of her eyes, some sort of fabric..._

_A veil?_

_A white veil._

_Only then she notices the music, the altar, the church._

_A wedding._

_Her blood runs cold._

_A gasp leaves her lips as she looks over her shoulder, at all those strange people._

_There's no one she knows and loves in sight._

_"No."_

_"Something wrong, my love?"_

_That voice. That sickening voice._

_She looks at the person beside her._

_Her father's gone._

_Instead of him and his greying hair, she sees that **monster.**_

_Eleanor tries to run. She tries to fight when her ex-husband reaches for one of her hands. But her limbs feel heavy, she can't move a muscle, she can't even speak._

_Her eyes are glued to the golden ring in his hands._

_Not again._

_This isn't right. What's going on?_

_She shouldn't be here, she should be in the ship with Charles..._

**_Where is he?_ **

_"You have nothing to be scared of. Not anymore. I'm here now."_

_The words only make her despair grow even stronger. He slips the ring on her finger, and it's so damn tight._

_It hurts._

_"Everything is going to be just fine. I'm coming for you."_

_Her sight becomes clear again as he lifts her veil._

_She tries to scream. No sound comes out._

_As he moves closer, she tries again, louder._

_Louder..._

* * *

"No!"

Her body is drenched in sweat as Eleanor quickly sits up on the mattress, heart racing. Her hand covers the birthmark on her stomach automatically.

It takes her a few seconds to be able to breathe.

After the initial confusion fades away, she takes a look around.

The captain's quarters.

As Eleanor feels the gentle rocking of the Ranger, her frantic heartbeat finally starts to slow down again

_She's okay._

It was nothing but a nightmare.

Barely able to make out the outline of the sleeping pirate beside her in the dark, she rubs her eyes, her hands lingering to cover her face for a few seconds.

It's the first nightmare she has about Woodes, ever since they left LA.

_Why?_

A particularly hard wave crashes against the hull, causing the ship to sway more than usual.

The words her ex-husband said are still haunting her.

_"You have nothing to be scared of. Not anymore. I'm here now."_

Why does it make her feel so terrified?

Maybe she's just too upset, she just woke up from a suffocating nightmare... It's normal for her to feel like this, right?

"What is it now?"

She sighs as Charles' grave voice fills her ears, bringing her hand to rest on top of his back. Always so warm and firm...

"Did I wake you?"

"It was that damn wave. I always wake up when my body senses something unusual, something that could be a threat to the ship. Old habits."

She nods, biting her lower lip.

"I'm okay. It's nothing."

"Eleanor. What's wrong?"

Of course he can see right through her. Who was she trying to fool?

"Bad dream. It's alright now. Just go back to sleep."

He doesn't even think about obeying, sitting up on the bunk beside her. Now that he's closer, she can see his concerned features a little better.

"The hanging?"

She sighs heavily, shaking her head while letting him pull her in his arms.

"I was getting married. To  _him_. He... said some disturbing stuff."

Charles remains silent, hand caressing her shoulder reassuringly. It encourages her to keep talking.

"He said he's coming for me."

Her lover frowns, subconsciously holding her closer.

Neither of them says anything.

But as they sit there in silence, the darkness of their cabin surrounding them safely as the Ranger sways gently in the waves, they are both thinking the exact same thing.

_What if this was another one of her premonitions?_

What if once dawn comes they receive some unpleasant news from LA?

"He won't get near you. If he tries, he dies." Charles speaks in a dark tone but it does little to reassure her.

He senses her turmoil. Her distress.

_Her fear._

All he wants is to make her forget about the nightmare. And there's only one way he knows how to do this.

That familiar fire starts to burn again as he kisses her, making her lay back down and covering her body with his.

They will be in for a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that history is probably accurate, in most parts, when telling the stories about the real life pirates. But for this fic, of course it has to be different, or it would conflict with the events of the show ;)


	6. Freedom

The sound of waves crashing and seagulls chirping outside slowly rouse Eleanor from her slumber, blue-green eyes opening lazily.

As she predicted, it was a long night.

Her whole body still feels deliciously used, sore in the best way possible. Certain bits of the the skin of her neck, chest, stomach and inner thighs feel really tender and she's sure that she's covered in bruises left by Charles's teeth and lips.

He's awake already, she notices, his hand caressing her arm softly while she rests her head on his chest, the fingers of her right hand still tangled in his hair, exactly as they were when she fell asleep hours ago.

For a few moments she pretends she's still sleeping. She likes to do this sometimes, to see how he acts, when he thinks she's not conscious. He allows himself to caress her skin in the most gentle, revering way, letting the extent of his love show.

It's the sweetest thing in the world.

Eventually, she moves, a brief sound leaving her lips as she grimaces softly for a moment.

"What's wrong?" Charles asks immediately, his hand going still on her arm as he watches her face closely.

"Just a little bit sore."

He scowls at her words, surely remembering their second visit together to Teach's cabin, when he ended up hurting her. But she's quick to reassure him, shaking her head and pressing a brief kiss to his lips.

"No, not like that. Pleasantly sore.  _Very_  pleasantly."

He studies her face for a few seconds before giving her a nod. The nightmare she had a few hours ago is still fresh in her mind and Eleanor represses a shudder, trying not to think about that.

But maybe they should contact Max or Idelle for any news from LA, just in case...

Her thoughts are interrupted when someone knocks on their door.

_"Charles? Are you two decent? We need to talk."_  Jack's serious tone makes her heart skip a beat.

"Come in. It's unlocked." Charles calls out and she gives him a sharp look, quickly reaching for the blanket and covering her naked body just as the door opens and their two housemates -  _shipmates_  - walk into their cabin.

Idiot. He just loves to be a pain in her ass.

Jack seemed ready to start talking immediately, but he stops in his tracks, raising an eyebrow at the state they're in. Even though the blanket is covering Eleanor up to her chest, he and Anne can see the round bruises all over her neck and collarbone. Thankfully their thin sheet is leaving only Charles' upper body exposed, his chest and shoulders marred with red nail marks, not to mention the three bites on his neck.

To top it all of, their wild hair makes them look like a crime scene.

A soft grimace comes to Jack's face and he shakes his head briefly, clearly regretting his decision of coming into their cabin.

"Jesus. You two look like you've just come home from a damn war."

Anne rolls her eyes behind him, leaning against the doorway.

"The fuck did you want, Jack?" The trio's leader asks roughly and a scowl comes to Eleanor's face.

She's feeling more anxious with each passing second.

"Did something happen?"

Jack stares at her face for a moment before sighing heavily.

"I'm afraid so. Max just called... And she had some bad news."

Charles' jaw clenches.

Her blood runs cold.

They already know what happened, and Anne only confirms their thoughts when she speaks from the doorway.

"The governor. He's awake."

* * *

"Please Mason, I need to see him-"

"Sarah,  _no_. You heard what the doctor said. He's still very fragile right now, and you are 35 weeks pregnant. The emotion could be too much for him."

A choked sob leaves her lips, tears streaming down her face as her ex brother in law holds her arms. Last night, when he called out to her, she rushed back to the hospital room, only to be stopped by one of the doctors.

Woodes was finally awake and they didn't even let her glance at him.

He's finally back from the coma, and these bastards don't want him to know that he's about to become a father. It's so frustrating and unfair, all she wants is to burst into his room and show him that she's carrying his child...

He needs to know.

An idea forms in her brain and she brings a hand to her forehead, sitting down on the nearest chair.

Mason is instantly alarmed, just as she planned. "What is it? Is it my nephew?"

"I just felt like I was going to faint for a moment... Can you get me some water, please?"

He nods, walking away. "Wait here. I'll get a nurse too, to check up on you."

She stares at his retreating form before her eyes settle on that familiar, closed door, just a few feet away.

There are no doctors in sight.

No nurses.

Only the servant Mason left in charge of watching her since last week, because of the baby's approaching due date.

But he's distracted reading a magazine.

And it's now or never.

Gathering her courage, she gets to her feet and rushes towards the door, quickly going inside the room.

Sarah didn't really know what she was expecting. Part of her was clinging to the hope that her ex-husband would look just as healthy as he did before, she didn't think he would look like such a shell of himself.

He's still in bed, his skin is still pale.

But at least he's sitting up on the uncomfortable mattress, pillows helping to support his back.

His hair is longer. And that wound left a really ugly scar on his poor left cheek.

His eyes are dull as he looks over at her. And they instantly settle on her stomach. He doesn't look up at her face. But the weak smile that comes to his lips is already enough to make the pain from the last few months start to vanish...

Until he opens his mouth and utters out a name she has come to loathe.

" _Eleanor_."

Her smile fades, a scowl replacing it. His speech was slurred, as if he was very drunk. He seems to be still getting used to speaking again.

She sighs, taking a few steps closer to his bed. "Woodes, no, it's me... Look, look at my face, love."

He frowns in confusion, those dull eyes moving to her short chestnut hair, to her face.

And he immediately loses the friendly expression.

"Sarah."

She smiles, nodding at him and reaching to hold his face in her hands.

He jerks away from her touch.

She notices how he tries to bring his arm up, but he's still too uncoordinated.

"Leave." He slurs. It seems to frustrate him that he barely has control over his own speech. "I can't even bear to look at you."

She frowns, shaking her head. Fresh tears come to her eyes.

"Why? What did I do?"

He stares off into space. The look on his face...

The man she loves looks absolutely crazy.

He mumbles a few words. The only part she understands is "All the problems you caused for us."

And Sarah has no idea what he meant by that.

"Woodes..." She tries again, grabbing his hand and bringing it to her stomach. "Didn't you see it earlier? You're about to become a father-"

"My child is dead!"

Again, she barely understands his slurred words.

"What? No, he's not, he's fine-" The baby kicks, right where her ex-husband's hand is, and she lets out a brief, happy laugh. "You see? He's alive, our little Aiden... He's due in three weeks. He's been waiting for you to wake up-"

"That damn brat is  _not_  mine."

It feels like a slap to her face. She lets go of his hand, his arm dropping to the mattress lifelessly.

"My child died, it died with  _her_..."

He starts to shake his head and mumble nonsense, she doesn't understand a word. All she knows is that he's growing more and more restless.

It's starting to scare her.

"My wife..." Those words she understands. And shortly after she's pretty sure he says "needs me."

Sarah doesn't realize she's walking backwards until her back hits the wall beside the door.

Her ex-husband looks at her again, eyes lingering on her stomach.

"Not mine."

Her tears are flowing by now.

" _Not mine!_ "

The commotion seems to have attracted people's attention. Mason rushes inside the room, a doctor, three nurses and the servant with him.

"What have you done, Sarah?!"

He grabs a hold of her arm, dragging her out of the room while the doctor and two of the nurses try to get his now hysterical brother to calm down again.

She sees the third nurse hesitate, looking at the patient with a clenched jaw before following them out of the room, closing the door behind them.

"Look what you did! What the  _hell_  were you thinking?!"

"Please keep your voice down, Mr. Rogers. This is still a hospital, so you might want to take your family drama outside." The nurse says with a sour look on her face, and Sarah notices she has a French accent.

Mason doesn't even look at her.

"Now you understand why I didn't let you see him? He's not himself, Sarah, it will take him a while!"

"Why was he asking about Eleanor?"

The dark skinned beauty tenses beside them. So does the servant.

Mason lets out a dry, humorless laugh. "Because that's all he's been doing since he woke up! The first thing he said was her name, he keeps mumbling some nonsense about a war, a child, his dead wife. He's not making any sense!"

"That is perfectly normal. He's been in coma for months." The woman says and Mason finally meets her eyes.

"I've seen you before. What's your name?"

She raises her chin, not intimidated in the slightest. With one glance at her name tag, Mason scoffs, letting go of Sarah's arms.

"Of course. I saw you at the Guthrie Mansion. You're friends with that stupid little-"

"I would watch my words about Richard's daughter if I were you, Sir."

He clenches his jaw, wondering why their servant was also acting so tense. "Where is she? My brother keeps asking for her, the doctors think he needs her."

Max shrugs, keeping an emotionless mask on. "Well, that's too bad. No one knows where she went. I myself have not talked to her in months."

Mason closes his eyes for a moment, rubbing his forehead, still hearing his brother trying to scream from inside the room.

_Chaos._

This is so frustrating. He was completely sure that Woodes was going to wake up thirsty for revenge, he thought they would hunt these lovers down together and make them pay.

But his brother seems to have forgotten all about Eleanor's betrayal. He's acting so strange, as if he's worried about his ex-fiancée's safety.

And it's not just that. He keeps trying to talk about an ancient place, about pirates, an armada. Hangings, ships.

And even thought every doctor has assured him that it's completely normal, telling him that some patients speak nonsense after coming back from a coma, Mason just feels so strange.

There's something going on with his little brother, and he knows it.

"Utley." He meets the servant's eyes, pushing Sarah towards him. "Take her home. And make sure she stays there."

He nods, but the woman shakes her head, starting to protest.

Mason holds her arm, a bit too roughly, staring into her eyes. "Don't you  _dare_  making a scene and embarrassing me and my brother even further. I tried to be gentle, but my patience with you has now come to an end. Go home and stay there. Or I swear to God, Sarah... Once this child is born I will get my lawyers and tear Aiden away from you before you even get the chance to breastfeed him."

She swallows hard before lowering her head in submission. Max clenches her jaw at this scene, fighting against the strong urge to slap that disgusting man's face.

"Come on, Ma'am. Let's get you home." Utley begins to guide her away from the door and she glances over her shoulder while Mason goes back inside his brother's room.

Max stands there, feeling extremely conflicted.

"Oh, what the hell." She mumbles before rushing after the retreating pair.

She sees it all so clearly, after the words Woodes' brother said. They will actually try to take that child away from Sarah. And she can't just stand by and watch an innocent baby be doomed to spend his life with those two monsters.

"Sarah!" She calls out as they leave the hospital and the woman stops, both her and Utley staring at her in question as she ran up to them. "You don't know me. And this is none of my business, but listen to me, please. You must be careful. These men, they will try to take your baby from you, and you can't let them-"

"Excuse me." The servant says, hiding Sarah from her view. "The last thing she needs right now is more stress, so please stop filling her head with-"

A sharp gasp from the pregnant woman interrupts his words and he looks at her over his shoulder.

His heart skips a beat.

There's a strange puddle at her feet, she's staring down at it, completely frozen while the wind blows on her maternity dress.

Max shoves him out of the way to see what's wrong, her mouth parting slightly as she meets Utley's eyes.

"Her water broke."

* * *

Night has just fallen and the tension in the office could be cut with a knife. The tavern is closed tonight, serving as a place where the group can just sit down and discuss about the recent events.

Eleanor has been on edge the whole day, unable to focus on anything, her brain working to come up with ideas and plans.

So after the sun set, she and Charles decided to meet here with their two shipmates, Scott, Flint and Caroline to talk about what they should do now.

Neither of her father figures were too happy to know about Rogers' awakening.

They have been waiting for Max to call with more information, but she's been strangely silent and they can't get in contact with her, no matter how hard they try.

So they wait, Eleanor's phone resting on the desk after she sent her friend dozens of messages, all of them demanding that she called her immediately.

"He will turn this island upside down looking for you." Flint says with a dark edge to his voice and Caroline scowls.

"We don't even know if he remembers. The blows to his head could have caused another memory loss."

Jack shakes his head, sighing heavily from one of the chairs. "Something tells me we are not going to be that lucky."

Eleanor bites her lip, covering her face with her hands, fingers rubbing her forehead. Stress is taking her over as silence returns to the office, and it makes her want to kill someone... But then the quietness is disturbed.

Max's ringtone has never sounded so sweet to her ears before.

She immediately grabs her phone from the desk, answering the call and putting her friend on speaker.

"What took you so fucking long?"

She hesitates before answering the question.  _"I had to help deliver a baby. The poor thing wasn't quite ready yet, and there were complications... He was born nearly dead. So I was caring for him. Apologies."_

A shiver goes down Eleanor's spine.

_Surely, she can't be talking about..._

No. There's still three weeks before the due date.

"We need information." Charles says, leaning against the desk right beside her chair. Ever since they received the news this morning, he's been staying really close to her.

_"It's... bad. He still has his memories from the previous life, but for some reason he seems to be in denial about Eleanor's betrayal, about how she left him for you. He keeps saying that she needs him, that he needs to save her. He also speaks about the past."_

"Well then, get him to shut the fuck up." Anne snaps, walking closer to the desk so Max would be able to hear her. "Or he will draw attention to us."

_"No one is taking him seriously, darling, don't worry. Not even Mason. Everyone thinks he's just saying nonsense thanks to the coma."_

"And what about the extent of the damage? Is he going to walk again?" Eleanor asks, and they all can hear the stress on her voice.

_"Unfortunately, it seems he will... But he's still going to need physical therapy for a while. He's basically a newborn right now, relearning how to speak properly, needing help even to bathe and use the restroom... He can't even eat on his own. So don't worry, it will be a while before he goes after you."_

Eleanor nods to herself, wickedly pleased to hear about her ex-husband's current state. To someone as proud as him, this is probably one of the worst punishments in the world.

_Serves him right._

_"But when he does, you should have something planned already. He seems crazed... Insisting on the idea that you're in danger... He's just so mentally unstable. I don't want to know what he will do if he gets his hands on you again."_

"He won't." Charles answers for her, a dangerous glint coming to his eyes. "And we made plans already. Let us know immediately when there are any changes in his situation."

Max is about to end the call when Eleanor sighs, unable to contain herself. "The baby you spoke about. Is he okay?"

Her friend hesitates for a moment on the other side of the line. They can hear the sorrow in her voice when she speaks.  _"No, he's not. It was the most complicated delivery I've ever seen, his condition is still critical, and so is the mother's. He's fighting, but... we don't know if that baby will survive yet."_

Her heart clenches as Max finally ends the call and she tries to push the feeling away, taking a look around the office.

"You said you had plans. May we know about them?" Scott asks with a scowl and Eleanor shares a look with Charles.

It's the first time they will tell others about what they discussed in their cabin this afternoon. Not even Jack and Anne know, and she has a feeling they won't like it.

But this isn't enough to intimidate her and she raises her chin, starting to speak.

"Flint is right. My ex-husband will turn the island upside down looking for me. And I don't want any of you to get hurt..." She pauses, meeting her lover's eyes again. He gives her a soft nod of encouragement. A barely noticeable smile tugs at her lips before she faces the rest of the group. "And that's why you guys are going to tell him that Charles kidnapped me, and that you have no idea where he went after that."

Her words are met with stunned silence for a moment before a scoff comes from Anne. The trio's leader doesn't even give her time to speak.

"And before you start swearing and attacking her... I was the one who had that idea, not her."

"What the fuck were you thinking?" Anne seethes and he shrugs, lighting a cigarette.

"That bastard wants me dead no matter what. But if he comes here... And he will... How long do you think it will take before he finds the tavern? How long before he finds Scott and his family? If they refuse to talk, God only knows what he'll do to them." He takes a drag before handing the cigarette to Eleanor, knowing she really needs something to help calm her nerves too. Scott is staring at him incredulously as Charles looks over at him. "That's why we came up with this plan. If he comes asking where she is, you just tell him that we fought, and that I took her to the sea against her will. Max said he thinks I'm a threat to her. That only makes this even more likely to work. He's so blind with his thirst for revenge, so eager to get his hands on her again, that he will leave right away if he thinks she's in danger. Which means you and your family will not be harmed."

He sighs heavily, lowering his eyes while Flint frowns. "Meanwhile... where exactly are the four of you going to be?"

Eleanor bites her lower lip, handing the cigarette back to her lover. This is the part of their plan Jack and Anne are already familiar with, and she's not looking forward to seeing how the other three people in the office will react.

"Our journey to Somalia has been expedited. Everything is already taken care of, the crew is moving into the ship as we speak." She pauses, staring down at the surface of her desk. "We leave in 4 hours."

" _What_?" Caroline manages to gasp out, a horrified look coming to her face as Scott scowls at Eleanor.

"Why so soon? You heard Max, we have-"

"...a period of time that we need to use to our advantage. You don't know Woodes like I do, he's not stupid. We must leave as soon as possible, if he comes here and you tell him that I was kidnapped, he will surely ask around about me. And if people say that the Ranger just left the Island, he will be suspicious. But if he learns that we've been gone for days, weeks... It will be a lot more believable."

Scott stares at her face before sighing heavily and rubbing his forehead while Flint scoffs, leaning back on his chair and shaking his head at Charles.

"So, to protect her from this threat, you will take her straight to a dangerous man who's thirsty for her blood? Makes perfect sense, congratulations on your impeccable logic."

Charles narrows his eyes at him, indignation filling his face. "I'm not a moron-"

"Could have fooled me."

"Okay,  _stop_! Don't make me get the gun or so God help me, this time I won't miss your heads!" Eleanor snaps at the two men, stress beginning to get the best of her.

_Her head is pounding so bad..._

"Sweetheart, please reconsider this decision... we're not ready to watch you sail away from home, to such a dangerous place." Caroline tries and her heart aches as she sees the despair in her mother's eyes.

"I already said I will keep her safe!"

Jack gives his leader a look, finally leaning forward on his chair. "I can assure you, Ma'am, that nothing will happen to your daughter. Charles will die before he lets Teach or anyone else hurt her, and besides... We will have weeks at sea. There's plenty of time for us to come up with dozens of plans-"

"Screw your plans." Scott says, surprising everyone in the office. "You are telling me that in just four hours my  _child_ will leave the safety of her home to venture into the unknown, to see the man who swore vengeance on her-"

"She is  _not_  a baby anymore!" Charles snaps, his voice coming out much louder than he had planned. Silence comes to the office and Eleanor gives him a disapproving glare as Scott gets to his feet and heads to the double doors.

He pauses, meeting the criminal's eyes with a slight shake of his head.

"Someday you might know what I'm going through..." His eyes move to Eleanor's face, anguish written all over his features. "...when a little miracle smiles up at you for the first time."

Tears threaten to come to the blonde's eyes as her father figure leaves the office. She looks at her lover with a clenched jaw, getting up from her chair.

"Are you satisfied now?" Is all she says to him before following Scott out the door.

* * *

She sees him sitting on the sand, staring at the dark sea, and slowly makes her way over to him.

"I'm sorry." Scott tells her as she sits down by his side and she frowns, not sure what he could possibly be sorry for.

"I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about."

He doesn't even glance at her, eyes staying glued to the ocean as a haunted look comes to his face.

"Agatha and Madi. I should have told you about them."

Eleanor's heart skips a beat as she understands what he's saying, and God, she has longed for this since their previous lives.

"You've been wanting to say that for a while, haven't you?"

"Since the memories came back. With our bond so much stronger in this life... It killed me to remember that I kept this from you. Even more when Madi told me about a conversation you two shared at the beach, shortly before your death. I can only imagine how painful that was for you, and I am so sorry to have put you through this suffering. It was the last thing you needed at that moment."

He meets her eyes and she offers him a warm smile before laying her head on his shoulder.

"You had your reasons... I understand now. Any resentment I might have felt for you back then is now completely gone... And I forgive you."

Eleanor can sense how relieved he is to hear that.

She feels him shaking his head. "I should have trusted you."

The blonde lifts her head from his shoulder, that familiar, determined glint coming to her eyes as she looks at his face.

"Well, now is your chance to make up for that... Trust me with this."

Scott sighs heavily, looking in the direction of the harbor and watching as all those shady men brought their bags to the Ranger.

"Is it really so hard to find a decent crew? What the hell is wrong with that beast of yours?" He asks, mostly to himself, and Eleanor looks down at the sand to hide her smile. "He better make sure none of these savages lay a finger on you."

"And he did that already. They know that if they try anything with me, they die."

Her father figure closes his eyes for a moment, rubbing his forehead. She feels awful for putting him through such distress.

"Can you come spend these last four hours with me, Agatha and Madi? And your mother, Flint?"

She stiffens for a moment.

_Going to the Barlow house..._

But this is her  _family_ , and she owes this to them. And even though she will never admit it out loud, she needs this comfort. She needs to be close to them, to enjoy these last moments of safety.

So she nods at him, and gets to her feet.

* * *

It's just after midnight. Her home is nothing but a tiny luminous point in the distance, and Eleanor tries her best to contain the wave of panic that rises in her chest. She's instantly taken back to the past, back to when she was torn away from her Island.

And it's scary as fuck.

But she's not chained down this time. She's freer than she's ever been before.

_And she has Charles with her._

The deck is filled with those strange men, and it feels so weird as she begins to recognize their faces, pirates from so many different crews now gathered together on their ship...

She can feel Charles' eyes on her, and when she meets his stare he gestures with his head, silently calling her to his side.

He just looks so natural steering his ship.

As Eleanor reaches the helm one of his hands lets go of the wheel, reaching for her and pulling her in front of his body before returning to its previous spot, effectively trapping her in place.

She doesn't mind it one bit.

It helps her feel safe.

Charles' hands soon seek hers, bringing them to the wheel. He locks their fingers together as she feels the hard spokes beneath her skin and the warmth of his large hands on top of hers, silently guiding her movements, teaching her how to do this.

Eleanor looks over her shoulder at the distancing island one last time, saying goodbye to the safety of her home before facing the huge, uncertain open sea in front of her.

She's so afraid.

Charles' fingers tighten around hers as they steer the ship together and he drops a brief kiss to her shoulder.

A soft sigh escapes her as Eleanor turns her head to kiss his lips, trying not to think about that weird fear of hers, the one that tells her something bad will happen to her criminal.

"I'll keep you safe." He says when they break their kiss, only for her to hear. She tries to force a smile, but it's simply impossible right now.

So she just nods at him.

"I know."

They both stare at the dark, vast ocean in front of them.

It's scary as hell.

_It's freedom._


	7. In the Arms of the Ocean

**_Moscow_ **

**_35 years ago_ **

_Blue eyes shine with determination as the teenage boy watches his father run back to the car, dressed in black from head to toe, a large bag in one of his hands._ _Their friend laughs from the driver's seat as he throws the back door open and quickly gets inside the vehicle._

_"I knew you could do it, Adrik."_

_"Drive!"_

_The young boy can only understand a few of their words, not really familiar with English yet, unlike his father and Ethan._ _He takes a peek inside the bag, staring at the shiny jewels in amazement._

_He knows his father and Ethan are not good people. He has seen them kill just for fun._

_He will never forget last week, the look on that young woman's face just before they shot her in the head._

_"Vasyl." His father's rough voice brings him back from his thoughts once they're about to enter their hideout, his hand coming to his shoulder to stop him from walking through the door._

_He shares a look with Ethan and his accomplice gets the message, both of them cocking their guns._

_And Vasyl soon realizes why._

_One second there's nothing but silence. And the next, he's thrown to the ground, gunshots ringing in his ears as he quickly crawls under the car, wide eyes desperately trying to keep up with his father and Ethan as they ran to take cover behind a dumpster, firing a few shots of their own._

_Their enemies had busted the windows, he could see them ducking behind the walls while shooting from inside the house._

_They were ambushed at their own home._

_Faintly, he hears Adrik's voice._

_"чистилище!"*_

_A gang that's been looking for them for a really long time, eager for revenge after they tortured and killed two of their members. Vasyl doesn't remember why they did that._

_He was too young at the time._

_The shootout seems to drag on forever._

_But he refuses to acknowledge just how scared he is._

_Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he hears their laughter._

_Adrik discards his black jacket while he and Ethan cheer their victory, putting their guns away as Vasyl crawls out of his hiding place, staring at their fallen enemies._

_"This should teach them to stay away from-" His father's words are interrupted by a loud, short sound he knows too well._

_And the teenage boy watches in horror as crimson starts to spread on his white shirt._

_He was shot from behind._

_It all seems to happen in slow motion as Adrik drops to his knees before falling completely. Vasyl screams for his father and Ethan grabs a hold of his shoulder, dragging him towards the car._

_The members inside their hideout were not alone. There are more of them, and they're coming fast._

_"Come on boy!" Ethan yells as he tries to break free from his grasp, wide eyes glued to his dying father. "Vasyl! He's gone! They're coming, quick!"_

_He still fights, and hears the man behind him sighing heavily before there's a sudden, sharp pain on the back of his head._

_And then everything goes black._

_It's already dawn when the teenager wakes up, his head still throbbing as he takes a look around. He's in a secluded alley, Ethan is staring at him while leaning against a wall._

_"Sorry. I had to use the butt of my gun to knock you out."_

_Vasyl clears his throat, starting to remember the events from a few hours ago._

_"Father?" The foreign word feels so weird on his tongue._

_The older man sighs, shaking his head. "He's gone, kid. I'm sorry."_

_He understands the words._

_His father is dead._

_And he refuses to cry._

_"We can't stay here. These bastards will look for us again. I promised Adrik that if something ever happened to him, I would take care of you. And I intend to make good on that promise. Do you understand what I'm saying, Vasyl?"_

_He scowls._

**_More or less._ **

_Ethan sighs, looking down at his weapon._

_"We need to work on your English. You will need it from now on, because I'm afraid we will have to leave good old Mother Russia behind. I was making plans while you were unconscious. I know a guy who can get us new IDs, and everything else we might need. We will take care of that, and once we're ready, we leave this freezer behind for good. Maybe we could go somewhere sunny, it would be a nice change, what do you think?"_

_Vasyl shrugs, understanding some of the sentences. He doesn't give a fuck about where they go._

_His father is gone forever, and it feels as if part of him died with Adrik._

_He simply feels so damn empty on the inside._

_"Hey. Kid." He meets Ethan's eyes and he offers him a half smile. "I know I won't find my place in heaven when I die. I know I'm not a good person. But your father was the only friend I ever had, and his death has left a hole in my heart as well. So the least I can do is care for his son. Don't worry, alright? I promise we will be just fine. Do you trust me?"_

_He speaks slowly, making it easier for the teenager to understand. Vasyl hesitates before forcing himself to nod at him._

_"Да."**_

* * *

**Los Angeles**

**Present Days**

Max's heart clenches as she watches the sleeping infant, reaching out to touch his face in the most gentle way possible.

As an irony of fate, Rogers' son was born with the umbilical cord wrapped around his neck. He was suffocating, his face purple, and she's sure he would have died if he had spent just a few seconds longer in his mother's womb.

Now he's in intensive care.

Aiden has trouble breathing on his own, and it seems Sarah wasn't too careful during her pregnancy. With the absurd levels of stress and pain she faced, she probably wasn't eating enough. So the baby didn't get all the nutrients he needed.

He's just so weak and thin. Max can see his bones, and it breaks her heart.

Aiden was born just two days ago and he's already fighting for his life. All because his dumb mother chose to cling to a man who didn't give a fuck about her, instead of focusing on her and her child's well being like she should have done.

It kills her, every time she's forced to watch the sick infants. And Aiden is the worst case she has ever seen. She feels so angry, blaming Sarah, blaming Rogers, and even Charles.

"Why the hell did you have to put him in a coma, you idiot? If it wasn't for that, Sarah would have led a safer pregnancy." She says to herself, caressing the baby's tiny fingers.

Sarah has not seen him yet. She's still in the ICU, but slowly getting better.

As for Woodes, the other nurses said he has not shown any interest in seeing the child, insisting that Aiden is not his. That his real child is dead, lost forever.

Mason has been trying to convince him otherwise. He and his wife were the only ones that came to see the newborn.

The baby lets out a soft, adorable little hiccup and a smile tugs at her lips. Despite everything he's going through, this child is an angel. He never cries. He never fusses.

She has never seen such a calm infant before.

And sometimes when she's talking to him, the corners of his tiny lips twitch up. Of course she knows he's not smiling at her, she knows newborns don't do that.

But it's still the sweetest thing in the world.

Her own smile falters as her eyes settle on her phone, resting on her lap. She has yet to tell Eleanor that Woodes' son was born already.

She just feels really hesitant, worried that this will have a bad effect on her friend, taking her back to her horrible past. But Max made a promise, and she needs to keep it.

The pictures her stubborn queen asked for are already taken. Now all she needs to do is send them.

Max shakes her head, letting out a heavy sigh.

"Why must you torture yourself so much, Eleanor?"

Seconds after she says those words, another nurse comes in, Mason at her side.

"How is he?"

She can hear concern in his tone.

At least it seems this monster actually cares about his nephew.

"Nothing new. He's not improving, but not getting worse either."

Mason walks over to the incubator, staring down at his tiny, sleeping nephew. He tries hard to ignore the huge sense of guilt. Maybe if he tried harder to keep Sarah calm...

No. It's not his fault. She should have been more careful during her pregnancy.

_And perhaps... Perhaps this is a blessing in disguise._

They can use this situation to their advantage. Sarah was reckless and because of her actions, Aiden's life is now endangered... This will probably be their lawyer's most important statement, the key to their victory in court.

Aiden will be theirs.

A soft frown comes to the baby's face and he stirs, blue eyes opening as he weakly moves his little arms.

_Skinny arms._

A smile tugs at Mason's lips but it vanishes when he turns around to face the two nurses again.

"I believe my brother will finally start to come around. Before that, however... He wants a DNA test."

He sees Max roll her eyes briefly, and for once he shares the sentiment. To him, there is no doubt that this child in the incubator behind him is his nephew.

Aiden has Woodes' eyes.

He's already a spitting image of his father. In fact, the only thing he got from Sarah was the hair color, probably.

"We will get a saliva sample and-" Mason is quick to interrupt the nurse's words.

"No. Woodes has this... strange way of thinking. It has to be a blood sample. He doesn't trust any other procedure."

Max frowns, shaking her head at that. "That doesn't make any sense."

Again, Mason shares the sentiment. "I know. But that's just how my brother is."

She walks around the incubator to stand on the other side of it, staring at the man's face.

"I won't put this child through more suffering than necessary." He narrows his eyes at her, opening his mouth to speak, but she's faster. "Your nephew is on the verge of death, can't you see how weak and small he is? And you want to pierce him with a needle and take his blood?"

Mason sighs heavily, looking down at the infant. Silent, as usual. He has yet to hear him cry.

"Unless you want me to pull some strings and make you lose your job, you will cooperate."

Max clenches her jaw as he turns around and walks away.

"I will be back in a few hours to check up on my nephew."

He leaves the room. The other nurse shares a look with Max, eyes filled with sorrow. "God, this poor child."

She sighs, shaking her head slightly while staring into Aiden's blue eyes.

_Poor child, indeed._

* * *

The ship rocks beneath his feet as Charles makes his way through the corridors below deck, keeping his balance perfectly. Voices trail down from the deck, he can hear his new crew, and it brings a smile to his face. They have been sailing for two days now, and there hasn't been a single problem with the men yet.

He remembers that three centuries ago, every day was filled with trouble with his men. They were constantly fighting among themselves, especially when they drank.

But things have been mostly calm with this new crew, even though they are... What was the term Eleanor used?

Oh right, " _a fucking gang of brutish Neanderthals_ ".

Yes, there is still no place for his crew in his queen's heart, definitively. But all that matters is that they are obeying the most important rule Charles set, and staying away from her.

All in all, the journey is going better than he had planned. The seas are relatively calm, no signs of storms yet... They are all having an enjoyable time aboard the Ranger.

_Well, except for a certain someone..._

The sight of Eleanor laying down on their bunk makes his eyes soften as he goes inside their cabin, closing the large wooden door behind him.

She manages to smile weakly at him as he wordlessly comes closer, but grimaces when he picks up the bucket that has been her faithful companion for the last two days.

But Charles doesn't seem grossed out in the slightest as he heads over to one of the small windows, throwing the contents of the bucket into the ocean below.

Eleanor sighs, staring at him as he came to sit on the edge of their bunk.

He offers her a half smile, reaching to feel her forehead. She's even paler than usual, and the sight makes his heart clench.

"How are you feeling, Honeypot?"

Her heart flutters, just like it does every single time he calls her by the damn nickname.

Or the shortened version of it.

"Awful. This is so miserable."

Charles tries not to chuckle at her misfortune. Now that they are out in the open sea, sailing nonstop, the Ranger sways a lot more.

And Eleanor fell victim of sea sickness after just a few hours of traveling. He still remembers the first night, when she suddenly leaped out of his arms, getting to her feet before running to the nearest window to empty the contents of her stomach.

Back then, he did laugh. And she gave him a dark, murderous look.

But now, seeing her so weak and fragile, Charles just can't bring himself to be so cruel to her.

"How long will it take for me to get used to this?" She whines, meeting his eyes. He just shrugs, playing with a strand of her hair.

"It varies. You could be better tomorrow, striding along the deck and shouting orders at the crew like the bossy pain in the ass you are, or... You could remain bedridden until we reach Somalia."

She groans miserably, hiding her face in the pillow.

_How can this be so damn adorable while breaking his heart in a million pieces at the same time?_

"I know you have responsibilities up at the deck, but... Can you stay? Just for a little while?" She suddenly asks, looking at his face again while he narrows his eyes at her. "It's... Not like I desperately need you by my side at all times like some stupid fairytale princess, I just... Feel better when you're here. Feel like I have something solid to hold on to. At least I'm able to stop throwing up... It's only logical."

His face softens immediately and he nods at her, waiting as she moved closer to the wooden wall before laying down by her side and gathering her in his arms.

"Better?" Charles asks, caressing her back soothingly as she sighs in satisfaction, grasping at his shirt.

"Much. Thank you."

"Have you been drinking a lot of coconut water like I told you to do?"

She nods against his chest.

"Aye Captain." The hint of playfulness and sarcasm in her voice brings a half smirk to his lips. "But I can't see how it matters, considering the fact that I vomit every single time I try to consume anything."

He rolls her eyes at her drama, holding her closer. "It helps. Trust me."

She goes silent and he sighs, feeling that sense of guilt come creeping in.

Charles kind of blames himself for her suffering. He should have known this would happen, he should have bought some medicine before they left Nassau. But he's not used to having people who get seasick aboard his ship, so he didn't even think about it.

"I'm not used to this." Her weak voice breaks the silence and he meets her eyes, quietly inquiring what she meant before she speaks again. "When I was little, Scott took care of me whenever I was sick. But after my 11th birthday, I didn't let him do it anymore. This is the first time in 12 years that someone cares for me while I'm feeling unwell."

His heart breaks for her. Whenever he thinks about everything she went through, all that pain, all that despair... And he wasn't around to help her through it.

"And how do you feel about that?"

She hesitates, tangling her fingers in his hair with an adorable soft frown on her face.

"I don't feel the urge the run."

Her words go straight to his heart.

They spend a few moments simply staring into each other's eyes, and Charles can see there's something on her mind. But before he can try and ask what was it, she speaks.

"You know, during my journey back to Nassau three centuries ago... I experienced a lot of seasickness too. And I remember feeling so scared... scared that I could be pregnant with your child."

Her words catch him off guard and Charles scowls, not sure what to say. But she continues.

And he doesn't fail to notice the tears that glint in her eyes.

"It would ruin all my plans. I don't know if I would have been able to destroy you, while knowing that I was carrying our baby."

_Our baby._

Why do those two simple words bring such a warm feeling to his chest?

But they are also really alarming.

"Do you think..." He trails off, unable to bring himself to say it. But Eleanor chuckles weakly, shaking her head.

"No, I'm not. Don't worry. I know the difference between pregnancy sickness and seasickness now. Trust me. If I was pregnant, I would know by now. Simple as that."

Charles stares at her face in silence for a moment before sighing heavily and pressing a kiss to her forehead, arms tightening briefly around her delicate form.

"Good."

Minutes drag by. And when he realizes it, Eleanor is sound asleep in his arms. He thinks about the conversation they just shared, those two words echoing in his head.

**_Our baby._ **

That image flashes through his mind once again. What the hell is he feeling? It's just so strange.

And Charles has no idea how to deal with it.

So he pushes the feelings away, as well as that scary image, focusing on his queen's peaceful face instead. Seeing her so sick and weak like this makes his heart sink. All he wants is to find a way to cease her suffering.

But at the same time, he has to admit he's happy that she let him take care of her. She reached out for him, asking him to stay...

If three centuries ago someone told him that  _this_  would happen one day, he would have laughed at the person's face.

He remembers one time, when he came back from the sea and went to her office... Only to find her sitting behind the desk, pale and shaky. He came over and felt her forehead, noticing she was burning up. That day, he opened the partition and dragged her to the bed against her will, then held her -  _restrained her_ \- until she feel asleep, exhausted from fighting.

When night came he procured soup and medicinal herbs for her, then spent the whole night holding her close under the covers. Eleanor was cold due to the fever, so in the end she just decided to stop fighting and enjoy his warmth.

But damn, once she was better she spent weeks refusing to talk to him or even look at his face.

And of course, Charles knew why. The fact that he saw her in such a fragile state made her extremely uncomfortable.

But this time things are different. She's finally opening up enough to let him help her, to let him be her strength when she needs him to, and she's not even angry about that.

_Time really does wonders._

Charles lets his fingers graze her face softly, not taking his eyes off of her delicate features for a second. As usual, her beauty has him deeply entranced.

God, he could stare at this perfection for hours.

But of course, peace can never last for too long.

Someone suddenly opens the door of their cabin.

"We need you on de..." Jack trails off, staring at the scene in front of him.

His hardened old friend, laying on the bunk with a sleeping Eleanor in his arms, one of his hands caressing her pale face.

His eyes shine with pure love and devotion as he traces her jawline with his fingertips, but Jack only gets to see this for a split second.

As soon as Charles hears his voice, he looks up from the golden haired beauty in his arms, eyes becoming hard and angry again. He's clearly worrying about his reputation, unhappy to have been caught behaving like this.

Jack has a feeling that not even Eleanor herself gets to see his leader like this, so openly loving and devoted.

But of course, he acts as if nothing happened.

"What?" His voice is so hostile. It's amazing, how quickly he can change.

"As I said, we need you up there. Just before you came down here, you said it would be just 5 minutes, well... An entire hour has come and gone already."

_He's been here for one hour?_

The mere thought of leaving Eleanor all alone is already enough to make his chest tighten. Charles can't find any words to say, looking at her face then up at his old friend again.

A soft frown comes to Jack's face.

The look in his leader's eyes is heartbreaking, and he's instantly taken back to a certain time in the past.

For a moment the scene in front of him fades away and instead of Charles and Eleanor, he sees himself, caring for the various wounds on Anne's body. She was so beaten and battered, so fragile... The only thing he wanted was to spend the whole time by her side, helping her heal.

Every time he had to leave Anne alone... God, it  _killed_  him.

He knows exactly what Charles is going through right now.

He knows exactly how damn much it hurts.

Jack offers him a sympathetic half smile, nodding slightly. "Just take care of her. I'll handle the men and the ship."

His leader stares at him as if he had grown a second head and he sighs, shrugging briefly. "Before we have to face the hell that awaits us in Somalia... You should enjoy each other as much as you possibly can." Charles stays silent, a soft scowl on his face. "You two have earned this after all, God knows that. So enjoy your time together... You can never know how much there is left."

Charles catches his hidden meaning. His old friend has his doubts about whether he will actually be able to keep Eleanor safe once they're finally face to face with Teach or not.

His arms tighten protectively around his pirate queen, and he doesn't even realize it. But Jack does, smirking briefly before leaving the cabin and closing the door behind him.

Charles stares at it in silent disbelief for a moment before sighing briefly and pressing a kiss to Eleanor's pale forehead. One of his hands moves from her waist to the bee necklace he stole for her months ago. A smile tugs at his lips.

She never takes it off.

And it means the world to him.

Jack's words echo in his mind but he tries not to think about them.

They have all the time in the world.

Nothing will happen once they reach Somalia. He will keep his queen safe from his uncle's wrath.

Even if he has to jump in front of a  _fucking_   _bullet_ , then so be it.

* * *

**Two weeks later**

**Somewhere off the coast of Thailand**

She watches as some of the men leave, going deeper into the jungle to chase away the beast that's been stealing their meat.

The medium gave them orders not to kill it under any circumstances, but it still needs to stay away from their home.

Her eyes settle on a lone figure sitting on the sand, a little smirk playing on her lips as she makes her way over to him.

"I thought you would go with them."

He looks away from the sparkling blue ocean, meeting her eyes with a half-smile of his own. "I'm afraid I'm getting too old to chase wild animals in the jungle, Madame."

A soft chuckle leaves her lips as she shakes her head at him. "Age is merely a number, and it's only in your head."

He studies her face for a moment. Rumor has it, the leader of their community is already in her early fifties.

_Like him._

But it doesn't show at all.

She looks like she could be in her late thirties at most. Maybe due to the life she leads? Feeding only on fruits and fish?

Or maybe it's just an Asian thing.

Such a mysterious woman. No one knows what she used to do before coming to this Island, or if she always lived here.

He arrived three years ago, after finally deciding to leave his old life behind.

And he doesn't regret it at all.

"I feel we might receive new visitors soon."

The man frowns at her words, meeting her eyes again. "What visitors?"

She smirks at him, a glint coming to her eyes.

For some reason, it sends a shiver down his spine.

"Special ones. They might need our help."

He raises an eyebrow, shrugging briefly.

Enigmatic as always. But after three years he finally learned his lesson. No one ever finds out what this woman means with her cryptic speeches before she wants them to know.

So he doesn't even bother asking anymore.

"Next week, I shall have to visit the mainland. We are starting to run short on medicine and a few other supplies. May I count on you and your aid?"

He studies her face for a moment.

_So alluring._

"Always, Madame." He speaks with a soft nod of his head and the medium smiles again, so briefly that he barely notices it before she turns around and starts the short walk back to the jungle, heading back to the tents.

He doesn't look away from the ocean as her voice reaches his ears again.

"Have a pleasant afternoon, Vasyl."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *чистилище (Chistilishche): Purgatory.  
> **Да (Da): Yes.
> 
> In case you're wondering who were those random guys in Russia... I will give only one hint: Vasyl has a role in two characters' lives... A role that is at the same time extremely important and not important at all. That's all I'm going to say.
> 
> There will be two more chapters before we reach Somalia, and they will have titles similar to this one's. Sort of a trilogy ;)


	8. In the Arms of the Storm

A smile tugs at his lips as Jack watches the seagull perched on the ship's rail in front of him. There are more around, just waiting for their turn to earn some food too.

The creature gets the piece of bread from his outstretched palm and he carefully reaches for its neck, testing the waters. His smile widens when it doesn't fly away, his index finger caressing its neck gently.

This is such a peaceful moment and he cherishes it. God knows that soon, peace will be something rare for them.

Even though Jack won't admit it out loud, he's also worried about what will happen to Eleanor when they reach their destination. She's been growing on him ever since she returned the Ranger to their leader, and they have been developing a nice, calm companionship. So many times they found each other at the deck in the middle of the night, after fighting with their respective wild beasts. So many times they talked for hours before finally going back to their cabins when dawn came.

It surprises him, but he is actually enjoying her company a lot nowadays.

But God forbid Anne finds out about this whole thing.

Just the thought of it sends a shudder down his spine and he sighs, taking a look at their current port. They reached Cape Verde a few hours ago, when the sun was beginning to rise. Eleanor emerged from below deck at that time, sleepy, demanding that Charles left the helm to go get some rest.

As soon as she realized they were close to the archipelago, she unceremoniously gave the order for them to make port.

And Charles didn't dare trying to object.

Of course, after that he just went below deck to his and Eleanor's cabin, completely uncaring about the procedure that needed to be done now that they had reached a foreign place.

Eleanor scoffed in disbelief.

"He just acts as if we're still in the 18th century!" She had said, outraged, and Jack told her to just go retrieve the ship's papers for him, assuring her that he would take care of checking them in while she and Charles rested, like a good "Quartermaster."

The smile she gave him back then was enough to bring one to his face as well.

Just as he proceeds to feed another one of the seagulls, loud footsteps sound from behind him, a voice he knows all too well reaching his ears as Anne spooked all of the creatures, rather violently.

He watches as they fly away, sighing heavily before facing the redhead beside him.

"That's really mean. Why do you always have to do this?"

She shrugs, a barely noticeable smirk coming to her lips.

"Fucking parasites. If you keep feeding them, they'll start to stick around. Next thing we know, there will be an entire flock following the ship everywhere... Last time I checked, we already got one pest aboard, and she's more than enough."

Jack bites his tongue, forcing himself not to defend his new...

Friend?

_God, this situation is still so damn weird._

"Captain wants to talk to us." Anne speaks again and he meets her eyes, trying not to smirk at the sour look on her face. "He and that blonde plaything of his are waiting for us down at their cabin."

* * *

"Is everything taken care of?" Eleanor asks as soon as they step foot inside the Captain's quarters and Jack nods, setting the ship's papers on the surface of the large wooden desk before sitting down.

"Nothing to fear. We are not illegal aliens anymore."

Relief flickers in her eyes and she nods too while Anne sits down on the chair beside her partner's. She doesn't look at the newest addition to their little group for a second, simply slouching on her seat with a bored look on her face.

Charles doesn't say a word to them either, sitting behind the desk with a map spread out in front of him and Eleanor perched on one of his legs.

"Thank you,  _Jack_." She says, emphasizing his name before giving Charles a hard look. He just rolls his eyes in response, taking a drag from his cigar.

She shakes her head at this, then her eyes return to the other two people.

"We were making plans. I decided we'll stay here for two days so the crew can have some dry land time while we get more supplies. After that, we sail towards South Africa, then finally up to Somalia."

Anne scoffs, shaking her head briefly. She's clearly not liking to see Eleanor taking the reins of the situation like this.

Jack, on the other hand... Watching this scene brings a strange feeling to his chest.

Relief? Satisfaction to see this woman finally back to her normal self?

She's so much better like this, sitting on their leader's lap and actively giving orders, rather than standing behind his desk, in the shadow of him, in submissive silence...

"How fast are we going?" Charles finally speaks and Jack comes back from his thoughts, a half smirk coming to his lips.

"We reached 18 knots."

Eleanor frowns softly. "That's fast, isn't it?"

"For a sailing ship... Yes. I knew from the beginning that this ship was potent. But I didn't know she would surpass all my expectations. It seems we couldn't have picked a better one, d-"

He cuts himself short, masking that last word that almost left his lips with a fake cough.

And praying that Anne didn't notice.

Did he just almost call her " _darling_ "?

_Really?_

Eleanor smiles brightly, glancing at Charles' face and seeing his satisfied half smirk. She knew he was eager for this journey, to see what his new ship was capable of when they pushed her to her limits.

And she's so glad that he's happy with the results they achieved.

Jack can't help but smile too, seeing these two like this. Finally at peace.

_Well, sort of._

He just happy to know that now his best friend, his  _brother_ , can have the love of his life in his arms. And unlike Anne, he doesn't worry about a betrayal from Eleanor anymore. She's different now. The lesson Karma taught her has worked wonders.

And Jack has to admit that he actually liked her before, in the past life, before all the shit that went down.

He has to admit he felt a twinge of pain in his heart when he saw her like that, a prisoner in her own life, playing a role, living a lie and wearing those ridiculous dresses. Deep down, he actually felt bad for Eleanor, despite that bubbling hatred for her...

No, not for her.

For what she had done.

_How come he's only realizing this now?_

Jack shakes his head briefly, looking up at them again, a smirk playing on his lips.

"So we will finally go there. You remember all the horror stories we used to hear about that place, Charles? The 'Cape of Storms'? It was enough to make any sailor tremble."

The leader scoffs, thumb starting to rub lazy circles on Eleanor's hip.

"Speak for yourself."

Jack rolls his eyes, fingers tapping on the desk's surface as a thought came to his mind. "Something tells me we will encounter our old friend again, and soon. Maybe when we reach South Africa."

Eleanor frowns, reaching to grab the cigar from Charles' fingers and bringing it to her lips. "What old friend?"

"He's talking about bad weather." Anne grumbles and Jack nods in confirmation.

"It's really strange we didn't face a storm yet. And I have a feeling our luck will run out soon."

Eleanor grimaces at Jack's words. "Don't jinx things."

He just chuckles briefly, and Charles finally speaks again.

"Mary has been keeping me updated. She gave me the exact coordinates of the port we need to go to when we arrive, so we won't have to deal with any legal bullshit. It belongs to the pirates." He pauses, recovering his stolen cigar. "She also advised us to fly the Somalia flag just in case."

A confused frown refuses to leave Eleanor's face. "What exactly are we going to find once we get there? How in the world does Teach keep that empire of his? And they have a fucking port... Aren't they supposed to be discreet?"

"Apparently, Teach has achieved much more than we initially thought. They have a cover." Jack begins, fingers stopping their motion against the desk. "A marine research center. On the surface, everything seems perfectly legal. Clean. But underground... It's where the pirates lurk. Where he stays. The building is theirs. The harbor is theirs. And no one has ever suspected anything. Because they attack far away from the coast, in international waters. Far from their headquarters."

Eleanor stays silent after this revelation. She's actually impressed. But would never admit it out loud.

Jack offers her a half smirk.

"How do you think he's been managing to keep all those pirates hidden for the last decade and a half? He's a genius, if you ask me. I can't wait to see the infrastructure."

Eleanor clenches her jaw, shaking her head briefly. "He probably had help. There must be other brains behind this whole thing... And some deep pockets as well."

She looks at Charles' face, a message clear in her eyes.

_What the fuck are we getting ourselves into?_

He pats her thigh underneath the desk in an attempt at reassuring her.

It doesn't work.

She's really starting to regret this journey, wishing she was still safe and sound back home, staying with Flint and Caroline.

* * *

**Los Angeles**

"She's not in her right mind!"

Mason sighs heavily, rubbing his forehead. His brother is having one of his moments, insisting on defending Eleanor when he tried to talk about her betrayal.

"It's not my wife's fault, brother! She would never do this to me, that was all  _him_! He's got her brainwashed, that's what they do!"

Mason frowns at his words. "They?"

" _Pirates_!"

Woodes spits the word out as if it's poison on his tongue, a crazed glint in his eyes as his brother clenches his jaw in frustration.

"Brother, I understand you were in a coma for six months, and that has had a huge impact on your mind. But it's been more than two weeks already, you were supposed to be getting back to normal by now. And yet... it seems you're only getting worse."

He doesn't even register his brother's words, shaking his head repeatedly.

"Eleanor... He took her, that savage!"

"What are you saying?"

He finally meets Mason's eyes, urgency written all over his face.

"She needs me." The older man keeps his crazed stare as he keeps speaking. "I  _saved_  her... We killed him together; I set her free from him, now she needs me to do that again. She needs me to save her from death again. We must be quick, or else-"

The door opens, interrupting his words. His eyes narrow as a familiar nurse carefully walks inside room... With a small bundle in her arms.

"Is he in the middle of one of his dementia episodes? Maybe this should wait." She says dryly, causing Woodes to clench his jaw.

Max doesn't hesitate to reciprocate his hatred-filled look. Mason shakes his head, staring at the newborn in her arms.

All she wants is to run out of this room and keep this sweet child safe from those two monsters.

The DNA test came out positive, of course, and to her extreme relief Aiden has been getting better, gaining weight and learning how to breathe well on his own. Sarah woke up too, and was able to see him once.

This morning, Woodes told his brother he wanted to meet his son.

But now, his eyes are just cold as she regretfully walks to his bed.

"Support his head. He's very fragile, so be careful."

Woodes scoffs at her words, eyes filling with scorn as she hands the infant to him, her heart clenching.

"I know how to hold a damn baby." He spits the words out, his speech now almost fully back to normal thanks to therapy.

Aiden stares into his father's eyes, and Max sees a slight shift in the man's behavior, his features softening...

But soon, a haunted look comes to his face. She shares a look with Mason, both worried about Aiden's safety.

"Woodes?" His brother tries, taking one step closer to the bed as the patient shook his head.

"We were supposed to be a family."

"You're talking about Sarah?

He scoffs at his brother's words.

"I'm talking about Eleanor. And the child she lost when she died. The child  _we_  lost."

Max shifts her weight from leg to the other uncomfortably while Mason sighs heavily, growing more and more exhausted of this whole story with each passing minute.

And suddenly, there's a sound no one had heard before.

Max frowns in pure disbelief.

Aiden, sweet Aiden, the baby that never cried even once in his short life opens his mouth and starts to  _wail_ , screaming bloody murder and fussing uncontrollably in his father's arms.

She was beginning to think he didn't know how to cry. But now it sounds as if someone's  _killing_  him.

And of course, his monster of a father doesn't know how to react.

"What the hell - You said he never cried!" He snaps, shooting his brother a murderous look.

"He never did! It's the first time!"

"Why?!"

Max clenches her jaw. "Maybe because babies sense our emotions and he didn't like what he felt in you?"

Woodes clenches his jaw at her, a menacing look filling his eyes as he stared at her face. "Get him to stop."

"I'm afraid I'm not a baby whisperer."

He looks down at his son again before giving up and handing him to Max.

_Violently._

She struggles not to let him fall as his father practically shoves the infant back into her arms before holding him to her chest, whispering reassuring words into his ear and pressing a kiss to his soft, chestnut hair.

Aiden instantly calms down and stops crying.

"Yes. It seems the problem was you. Would you like to give it another try?"

Woodes scoffs, looking away from her and Max shakes her head, turning around to walk away. He reaches to grab a hold of her arm, a shudder going down her spine as she looks at his face, chin raised in defiance.

"Where is she? What did he do to her?"

His tone holds a warning. A warning that tells her to cooperate.

But still, Max refuses to back down.

"I don't know where Eleanor is."

It's not a complete lie. They could be anywhere in the Atlantic right now.

Woodes didn't recover his strength yet, so it's fairly easy for her to break free from his grip. Her jaw remains clenched as Max leaves the room, holding Aiden protectively in her arms.

"And even if I knew, I would never tell you."

* * *

**Somalia**

**Underground Headquarters**

"Okay, you wait here for mommy, alright? We'll be right back."

Davina nods at her adoptive mother as she walks away with Billy. Just before they disappear in another hallway, she gives the child a sharp look.

"Do  _not_  wander off, young lady. Remember you're not home, and there are bad men here. I'll just take care of something with cousin Billy and come back really soon, so don't go anywhere."

Davina rolls her eyes, nodding as Mary finally left. She counts the seconds in her head.

_...Eight... Nine... Ten._

A devious smirk comes to her lips as the little girl jumps down from her seat, immediately taking off in the opposite direction her mother and Billy went. She loves it when they bring her here. She loves to explore.

Soon, she runs up to that large, heavy oak door... It's painted black.

There's an skeleton on it, piercing a heart... An adorable frown comes to her face as she reaches to touch the image on the door, needing to get up on her toes to do so.

Her eyes go to the doorknob.

The room seems to be empty, she doesn't hear voices inside.

Curiosity gets the best of her, and when Davina realizes it, she's opening the door already.

It's dark inside and she searches for a switch, a bright smile coming to her face as she turns on the lights and sees all those treasures.

When they came back home and Teach called them to his office, she was entranced by all these interesting objects.

There's all sorts of stuff.

Ships in bottles. Small, strange looking statues. Chinese dragons.

Ancient looking vases, beautiful gems...

She runs behind the desk, sitting on that huge chair.

She always wanted to do this.

Putting on a serious face, she studies the maps,touching her chin and pretending to think about strategies.

Giggling happily at her own silliness, the child opens one of the drawers, kicking her feet back and forth distractedly. The chair is so high they don't even reach the floor.

The playful look on her face is replaced by a frown as she catches sight of a few pictures inside the drawer.

_A baby?_

She picks one of them up, leaning back on the chair and scowling.

The picture shows a little baby, with a full head of familiar dark hair. And familiar eyes, blue as the Caribbean sea.

He's smiling brightly, laying on his back on what she assumes is a bed.

On the back of the picture, there are words written.

_08/30/1987_

_Charles. Seven Weeks Old._

Her eyes go wide.

It's her big brother!

Her big brother when he was little!

Another giggle leaves her lips as she stares at the picture. But then a sudden, strong voice makes her jump on her seat.

"A little intruder? Maybe I should invest more on security."

_Busted._

She quickly returns the picture to the drawer and closes it before jumping down from the big chair, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt while staring at the giant in front of her nervously.

He doesn't look angry. That's good, right?

"Davina?" Her mother's distant voice reaches her ears and she almost slaps a hand to her forehead.

_Double busted._

She doesn't see the brief half smirk that comes to Teach's lips, eyes glued to the door as an exasperated Mary appears, alarm filling her eyes.

"Sir, I'm so sorry! I promise you won't see her in here again-" She rushes to her daughter, a stern look coming to her face. "What did I tell you about wandering off, Davina? You're not supposed to come bother Teach!"

The child lowers her eyes, Billy appearing at the doorway too as Mary opens her mouth to keep admonishing her daughter.

But she's interrupted

"Read. Let her be. It's fine."

Both adults and Davina look up at the pirate king, eyes filled with disbelief.

"In fact, you should bring her here more often. This place could use a little cheering up."

He heads over to one of his cabinets, grabbing a light blue gem. Silence reigns as he kneels in front of Davina. And even like this, he's still considerably taller than her.

She looks so tiny next to his massive body.

Her eyes widen as he offers her the jewel.

"It's a topaz. I bought it during one of my trips to Egypt. And it's yours now."

She smiles brightly at him, accepting the jewel and examining it closely as Mary shook her head. "Sir, we can't accept it. Give it back, Davina."

The child scowls at her in defiance and Teach lets out a brief chuckle. "It's a reward. A reward for her braveness. She came in here, fearless, and even when I found her she refused to back down, keeping my stare and not lowering her eyes. She may be little, but she's already brave like her brother. And this calls for a reward."

He's taken aback when Davina throws her little arms around his neck with a brief giggle. "Thank you!"

Before he can try to return the hug she pulls away, touching his dark beard with a soft scowl.

"You look like Blackbeard, from my book about pirates."

Booming laughter leaves his lips, causing both Mary and Billy to frown in confusion at this reaction.

"You're really something else, aren't you, kid? Your brother's sister, definitely."

She seems to think for a moment before nodding proudly, a devious smirk on her lips.

Teach rises back to his normal stature and Mary clears her throat, bringing her hands to Davina's shoulder. "Let's get going now, baby. We already took too much of his time.

The little girl nods and Mary begins to lead her to the door.

But as she glances at the pirate king again, something catches her eye when he shrugs off his leather coat.

Both his arms are marred with ugly, red marks. And they're  _huge_.

She also saw a round, faded bruise on his forehead earlier.

But it was nowhere near as scary as the ones on his arms.

"What is that?" She can't help but ask, stopping in her tracks and pointing at the weird marks.

"Davina!" Mary admonishes quietly through gritted teeth as Teach glances down at his arms with a haunted look on his face.

"I was heavily wounded once. It left scars."

She wrinkles her little nose adorably. "Does it hurt?"

A dry chuckle leaves his lips. "Not anymore. It happened a really long time ago."

"How long?"

"Enough, baby. Stop pestering him. Let's go home, it's time for your lunch. You refused to have breakfast, remember?"

Her focus changes quickly, from the scars on the pirate king's arms to her adoptive mother.

"It's not my fault, mama! I said I wanted a peanut butter sandwich and you gave me fruit!"

Mary can't help but chuckle at her daughter's indignant tone and accusing glare, leaving the room with her and Billy.

"Oh God,  _how_  was I capable of such cruelty!"

Teach smiles briefly at her fading voice, dripping with sarcasm.

That little girl is starting to grow on him.

Despite who her worthless shit of a father is, he's really starting to like that kid.

* * *

**Cape Verde**

Her eyes are filled with tears as Eleanor touches the screen of her phone, drinking in every tiny detail of the sleeping newborn's perfect little face.

_Is this what her child would have looked like?_

She needs more. Needs to see his eyes.

She simply needs more.

After glancing at the door of the Captain's quarters, she quickly calls her friend's number.

"What's his name?" The rushed words leave her lips as soon as Max picks up the call, and the woman hesitates on the other side of the line before sighing heavily.

"Aiden. Aiden Connor Rogers."

A choked sob leaves her lips. "Is he healthy?"

"He's been getting better, yes. We think he will make it now."

"Can you send more pictures? Can you record his face, really close? Or maybe-"

"Eleanor,  _stop_!" Max cuts her off, a nervous edge to her tone. "You are torturing yourself, and I won't be part of this sadistic little game of yours!"

Like an addict, she shakes her head violently, desperate for her drug.

"Please... Just this once. Just this once, and I promise I will never ask about this child again. But I  _need_  this, Max. I really do."

"Mon ange, this child is  _not_  yours." The words feel like a stab to her achy heart. "Yours is gone, it's been gone for centuries, and I know it hurts you so deeply, but you really need to accept that and move on, the sooner the better... For both of you."

She frowns, fighting hard against the tears. "What do you mean by that?"

"Can't you see how much this whole story hurts Vane? Can't you see what it does to him, to watch you obsessing over this child?"

Guilt pierces her heart. She didn't stop to think about how painful this is to him.

_But still..._

"Please, Max."

There's silence for a while.

Her friend sighs in defeat.

"But if you ever ask about Aiden again..."

"I won't. I promise."

More silence.

"Very well then."

Max ends the call.

And minutes later, she receives five more pictures.

His eyes are open. And they are just the same shade of blue as Woodes'.

He also has his mouth shape. His jaw.

_His everything._

And when she watches the video Max sent, seeing the infant moving his tiny arms and legs while staring at the camera with those eyes of his... Making those adorable little noises...

_It's too much._

Leaning back on the Captain's chair, Eleanor lets her phone drop to the desk before burying her face in her hands, finally breaking, sobs wracking her body as she cried desperately.

Like a mother who just saw her dead child.

_Coming back to haunt her._

She tries to get a hold of herself as familiar, heavy footsteps approach the door, she tries to stop crying, to stop her tears.

It's useless, and when Charles opens the door, his eyes fill with concern and alarm.

"What happened?"

He rushes to her side, eyes moving to her phone screen.

His jaw clenches.

"Is that his kid?"

All she manages is a brief nod, wiping some of her tears and speaking in a shaky voice.

"Back when we recovered our memories... it hurt so much. One of the hardest things was remembering the pregnancy." She sobs, averting her eyes and trying hard to stop crying like a weak teenager. "I had nightmares, I could hear a baby crying, he sounded so scared. I tried finding him but there was just darkness... And he  _needed_  me. He needed me and I  _failed_  him!"

By now he knows she's not talking about the child from her nightmare, but about the one that was growing in her womb when she died.

Charles sighs heavily, doing his best to push the anger away and reaching for one of her hands.

"It wasn't your fault. You did the best you could to protect your baby. Don't think for a moment that it was your fault, alright? It was  _his_. He was the one who killed both you and the child."

Another sob.

His heart breaks.

"The Spaniard, he kicked my stomach. Do you think it hurt him?"

"Max would probably be a better person to answer this question, but... You said it was only the first trimester. I don't think they can feel anything this early."

Eleanor exhales sharply, avoiding to look at her phone, but also unable to meet Charles' eyes.

"He looks  _just_  like him." It's nothing but a quiet whisper and the criminal frowns, studying the infant's face briefly.

"I think he looks just like a wrinkled knee."

His attempt at lightening the mood works and she lets out a brief chuckle, shaking her head softly.

"I'm so sorry. This really hurts you, doesn't it?"

Charles sighs, thumb caressing her hand soothingly.

"This baby has  _nothing_  to do with you. He's Rogers and Sarah's kid, not Rogers and yours. I think you're being extremely stupid and over reacting... This is not like you. But then again, I don't know what it's like to lose a child of mine. I don't know what it's like to even have a child of mine. So I don't get to judge."

A sad little smile comes to her lips. "It's the deepest love you can imagine. I can't describe it... Loving this... Tiny piece of yourself, without even knowing what gender it has, what will their face look like, you just... You just love them with your whole heart."

Charles thinks about her words. He could hear the sadness and the love in her voice.

"You really loved your baby a lot, didn't you?"

"I still do." Eleanor frowns at her own words, shaking her head briefly. "I know it's been gone for centuries, but I just..."

"You don't have to explain yourself. Not about this."

She stares at his face for a moment before nodding softly.

So grateful for his understanding.

But soon, he speaks again and this peace is broken.

"Delete these pictures. The video. Delete all of it."

She meets his eyes with a scowl on her face, shaking her head briefly.

"Charles-"

" _Eleanor_. Do it."

More tears threaten to come to her eyes and she swallows hard. "I don't know if I can."

"I'm not trying to control you. I just don't want you to get hurt. It's not healthy for you to see this baby's face. Just look what it's doing to you right now. The last time I saw you cry like this was when I found you self-harming back at your father's mansion."

She lowers her eyes to her phone, feeling extremely conflicted.

Anger flickers in Charles' eyes as she shakes her head. "This is the only link I have to my-"

"For  _fuck's sake_ , it's been  _centuries_ , just let that child go!"

She scowls at his sudden outburst. And it looks like he regrets it too.

Eleanor lets out a shuddering breath, grabbing her phone and getting to her feet.

"I'll go explore the island with Jack. Don't expect me back until nightfall. And don't try to come after us."

His eyes fall closed as she walks out the door, leaving him alone in their cabin. Jaw clenched hard, Charles brings his fist down onto the surface of the desk with a loud bang.

The governor's oceans away, and yet he's still causing his Queen pain.

"Should've just killed you when I had the chance."

* * *

**Two weeks later**

_The ship is swaying far more than it should..._

This is the first thought that comes to Eleanor's sleep-muddled brain as she lays on their bunk, her head and right arm resting over Charles' bare chest and abdomen.

She's barely awake, feeling the comforting weight of his arm around her waist.

Something must have disturbed her slumber but she's not willing to find out what it was, deciding simply to keep her eyes closed, feeling sweet sleep starting to overcome her completely once more.

Until she's harshly brought back to full awareness by the  _loudest_  thunder she ever heard in her two lives.

She wakes up fully, wide eyes filled with alarm. It was so loud that it takes her a few seconds to realize it was just a thunder.

_It sounded more like the apocalypse._

Her heart is still beating frantically in her chest when she looks at Charles' face, their eyes meeting as he stares at her.

"It's okay."

She scowls at his words, now noticing the scent of the rain in the air too.

"A storm?"

The criminal nods, arms tightening briefly around her waist. "It's coming. We're sailing right into it."

"Can't you turn the ship around?"

He shakes his head, staring up at the wooden ceiling. "Too late. Even if we tried earlier, it would have caught up to us soon. It's better to just face it now."

"Is it a bad one?"

"I'm afraid so."

Dread settles in her stomach as he lets go of her waist and gets to his feet, starting to get dressed.

"You're going up there?"

Another loud thunder makes her jump slightly, her eyes glued to him as a brief flash of lightning filtered in through the line of windows.

"What kind of captain would I be if I just slept through a storm?"

She bites her lower lip, hugging the blankets to her naked chest. Her eyes are filled with concern.

If she already used to be worried sick about him whenever he was at sea and she saw storms from the safety of the dry land, what will it be like now? Now that she's here with him in the ocean, seeing the violence of mother nature with her own eyes?

"I have sailed through many storms, Honeypot. I'll get us to safety, you won't get hurt."

She shakes her head as he finishes dressing, hearing the rain starting to hit the deck and the crew rushing through the corridors.

"It's not me I'm worried about."

He stares at her face for a few moments. Things have been weird between them since the whole Aiden pictures story. They're not fighting or arguing, but he's been a little distant ever since they left Cape Verde.

And Eleanor doesn't like it.

Even more now, when he's about to throw himself into danger, sailing his ship through a nasty storm.

_What if something happens to him?_

"I did this countless times before, nothing ever happened to me." Charles speaks again and she raises her chin at him.

"That doesn't mean you're automatically safe from danger."

He doesn't reply, turning his back to her and walking to the door.

"What can I do?"

Charles stops when she says the words, glancing at her over his shoulder.

"You can stay below deck safe and sound, where you belong."

Eleanor scoffs in disbelief. "You think you can tell me where to stay? You think a man's orders have any value to me? I left the fort, didn't I?"

"And look what happened to you!"

She falls silent. He's right this time.

"There must be  _something_  I can do to help."

A heavy sigh leaves Charles' lips. "We got this, Eleanor. I'll go up there and get this ship through the storm, but I need to stay focused in order to do so. And it will be easier if you stay here, safe." He heads to the door, pausing to look at her over his shoulder. "So I won't be out of my mind with worry for you."

Her heart swells with love. But a hard scowl comes to her face when Charles leaves the cabin... And she hears him locking the door from the outside.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me!" She rushes to the large door, banging her fists against the wood. "Don't you  _dare_  leaving me locked up in this cabin!  _Charles_!"

If he hears her protests, he doesn't even respond and she hears his muffled, commanding voice as he rushes towards the stairs. A groan of annoyance leaves her lips before she gets dressed, unable to stop scowling.

It comes quickly.

Suddenly she can't hear the footsteps from above anymore, she can't hear the soothing lullaby of the waves and the creaking wood.

All she hears is the storm.

And Eleanor had no idea it could be this loud.

Her stomach is in knots as she struggles to reach the line of windows, the ocean no longer visible. There's just darkness, raindrops lashing against the glass while the ship sways violently beneath her feet. A choked gasp leaves her lips when a huge wave crashes against the window, and for a moment she could swear they were going down to the bottom of the ocean.

Eyes wide, Eleanor gets away from the windows. They're rattling so hard that she worried the glass would shatter right into her face if she stayed too close.

The Ranger breaks through another aggressive wave and she can't keep her balance, falling to the wooden floor and hissing out in pain as the weight of her body crushes her left wrist.

For a moment she considers the idea of just laying here on the floor until things get calmer, not sure if she could get to her feet again.

But of course her stubborn side wins and she drags herself to the desk, using its support to get up.

Books fly from their shelf, Charles' leather jacket and maps falling from the desk's surface, and she's thankful that they keep their alcohol safely locked inside their cabinet. The last thing she needs right now is to have bottles shattering all over the cabin.

The ship begins to buck and heave and Eleanor needs to hold on to the desk for dear life, not wanting to end up on the floor again. The throbbing pain on her wrist is getting worse with each passing minute but she pays it no mind, feeling sheer terror taking her over.

This  _can't_  be just some typical storm.

She's not a sailor, used only to seeing rain from the safety of the dry land, but this just can't be normal.

_Now she knows why they used to call this place the Cape of Storms._

This is hell on earth, a sample of the apocalypse... And Charles is still up on the deck, right in the middle of it all.

Eyes wide, she tries so hard to hear his voice, to hear anything other than the storm,  _anything_ that could tell her he was safe.

But there's nothing, and her breathing starts to become more and more ragged, tears burning in her eyes as she bites back a scream. Panic rises in her chest, unwelcome images flashing through her mind.

_Charles' broken body slipping beneath the waves..._

God, what if he gets swept off the ship? What if he's injured right now? What if he's already gone?

The worst scenarios begin to play in her head, despite her efforts to push them away.

With the Captain gone, what would those savage beasts do? What would they do to  _her_?

Surely Jack wouldn't have the strength to keep her safe from them, but maybe Anne... She could never let a woman be raped, after all...

_But one little brute against all those strong men?_

Even though it scares her to think about that, her mind just keeps coming back to Charles. Is he okay?

She also thinks about the whole ship breaking apart, sinking to the ocean floor and dragging them all with her.

Her thoughts fly to Nassau.

Her mother, Flint, Scott... They would spend the rest of their lives searching for her, never knowing about her unfortunate fate...

_Get a fucking grip on yourself._

The thought comes as suddenly as the storm, and it feels like a hard slap to her face.

All this drama and whining won't get her anywhere and she needs to act like the strong woman she is. Straightening up, she tightens her grip on the desk, trying to focus on facing this storm with a raised chin.

It makes her feel better... But she's still worried sick about  _him_.

If only the door was unlocked, if only she could go up the stairs and peek her head up on deck just for _one moment_ , just to check if Charles was still on the ship...

_Peek her head up..._

Her eyes fly to the ladder on the other side of the cabin.

_Of course._

The only way to lock the hatch door is from the inside... And in his hurry to get to the deck, Charles forgot all about it.

A triumphant little smirk tugs at her lips and she waits until the ship is not swaying too much to run to the ladder, almost falling again. But Eleanor reaches it, grabbing the rungs and gritting her teeth in pain as her injured wrist protests.

Her heart leaps to her throat as the Ranger suddenly rises on a wave, only to fall violently seconds later. It felt as if they were going to get toppled over and she waits for a moment, in the middle of the ladder, holding on tight.

When it becomes apparent that there are no more waves for now, Eleanor proceeds to climb to the hatch door, struggling for a moment before finally opening it.

She's instantly soaked.

The wind is cruel, almost hurting her face.

_But she sees him._

Right in front of her, at the helm, keeping his balance perfectly.

His muscles strain under the skin of his arms with the effort of steering the ship through the violent waves. She has no idea how he's able to see, she can't make out the rest of the ship, there's just darkness and the heavy downpour.

But a flash of lightning lights up everything and she sees the crew manning the sails, she sees Anne...

And Anne sees her.

"Charles!" The redhead calls out, pointing in her direction and before she can even try to hide the Captain looks over his shoulder, eyes filling with rage.

"Get down and close the fucking hatch!" He yells to be heard over the storm and she shoots him a murderous glare, obeying anyway. She already saw what she wanted to.

Now Eleanor understands why he didn't want her on deck. It looked like a horror movie, there's no way she would have been able to stay there without falling into the ocean.

She worries about Jack, briefly. She didn't see him up there when the lightning struck.

But hopefully he's in the safety of his and Anne's cabin too.

A scowl comes to her face when the rain stops abruptly, the loud sounds dissipating in the blink of an eye.

_Did she just go deaf?_

Her doubts are answered when she hears the hatch door opening.

Charles comes down the ladder, soaked to the bone, water dripping from his hair as he glares at her.

"What the  _hell_  am I going to do with you?"

Still confused, she manages an eye roll, subconsciously holding her injured wrist to her chest.

He notices, frowning and heading over to her. "What happened?"

She scoffs, trying to ignore the profound relief to have him here, safe and sound. "I fell."

The bastard  _chuckles_  at her.

With another eye roll, she moves away from him to climb up the ladder, wanting to check for any damage on their beloved ship.

Thankfully, everything seems to be just fine, by some miracle, and she sighs in relief. But it doesn't last for too long.

Suddenly, Eleanor is struck by a strange feeling. There's a heavy cloud above them. The temperature is warm. And there's a weird stillness in the air. No wind. No breeze. Despite the frenzy of activity of the crew on the deck, everything is calm...

_Unnaturally calm._

_Something's not right._

"What is this?" She asks in a quiet, suspicious tone as Charles climbs up the ladder too, his right arm coming around her waist while they stared at the deck.

The words he says next send a shiver down her spine.

"The eye of the storm."

Eleanor lets out a shuddering breath.

"So it's not over yet?"

He shakes his head, pressing a kiss to the side of her head before climbing even higher, until he's standing on the deck again. "Go to the bunk. Lay down and stay there so you won't get hurt again."

A wave of panic rises in her chest.

"Charles-"

He meets her worried eyes, feeling his heart break in half.

"It will be over soon, Honeypot. I promise. Now go."

She doesn't even have a chance to respond before he closes the hatch door again, the wood touching the top of her head.

Just as she reaches the bunk, it begins again.

Her heart beats frantically in her chest as the cruel waves lift and throw the Ranger down again, windows rattling. But at least this time she can hear Charles yelling at the crew, giving orders along with Anne.

Eleanor feels as if it's the only thing keeping her sane right now.

She pulls the blankets over her head, praying this hell will be over soon, her chest tightening every time Charles stays silent for more than five seconds.

She hates herself so fucking much for cowering under the covers like this. But God, she's absolutely  _terrified_.

It seems to drag on forever. To the point she actually begins to wonder if they died and this is the purgatory.

But a small bit of hope sparks in her chest when the waves slowly start to grow calmer, softer.

The windows stop rattling.

And unlike when they entered the eye of the storm, the rain starts to stop, slowly, gradually, until it's nothing but a soft drizzle hitting the windows and the wood of the deck.

Pushing the blankets away, she listens as the crew cheers, their voices trailing down to the Captain's quarters. She can hear Anne's too, but...

There's no sign of Charles'.

Trying not to panic, she gets to her feet, worry getting the best of her as Eleanor rushes to the ladder.

But just as she was going to start climbing the hatch door opens and her criminal descends into their cabin, completely soaked.

He barely has time to look at her face before she's kissing him, pushing him back against the ladder. Despite the surprise, he's quick to respond, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer, pressing his hips to hers in the most delicious way before trying to pick her up.

But stopping when she cries out in pain.

Charles pulls away, quickly realizing he ended up disturbing her injured wrist. His eyes soften and he takes it in his hands, guiding her back to their bunk.

Silence reigns while he massages it softly, inspecting it thoroughly.

"It's not broken." He finally speaks, meeting her eyes. "But it will probably be swollen for the next few days."

She nods, sighing softly while he studies her face with narrowed eyes.

"Now. You wanna tell me what was that all about?" He asks, gesturing towards the ladder.

Eleanor lowers her eyes, shaking her head briefly.

"I was just so worried. When I didn't hear you voice, I thought..." She lets out a heavy sigh, meeting his eyes again. "I had no idea it was like  _that_."

Charles chuckles briefly, reaching to caress her jawline. "Welcome to my world."

"Is it always this bad?"

He shrugs, his other hand still massaging her wrist soothingly. "I've had worse, actually."

A scowl comes to her face. All the times he came back to the Island, his ship damaged from storms... All those times, she had no idea how close she came to losing him.

_Like tonight._

She could be desperately searching the waters for him right now.

This reality check is like a slap to her face and she lets out a shuddering breath, holding back tears.

"What's wrong?" His concerned voice asks and she moves closer, bringing one hand to his cheek and the other to his shirt.

"I don't ever want to lose you. I don't think I can go through that pain all over again..."

Charles shakes his head briefly, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. "You won't have to."

Her eyes glint with unshed tears, moving to the foot of their bunk.

Where her phone rested.

Charles watches her closely as she reaches for it, turning it on before opening her gallery and taking a deep breath.

One by one, she deletes Aiden's pictures, hands trembling only slightly.

A lone tear escapes and falls to the phone screen when she reaches the video. And after hesitating for a brief moment, Eleanor deletes it as well.

Charles' eyes shine with pure love as she looks at his face again. A little smile tugs at her lips. And he's pretty sure he sees relief flicker in her eyes.

Taking the phone from her hands, Charles gives her a half smirk before kissing her again, pushing her down into the mattress.

His clothes soak hers too but neither of them cares in the slightest.

In seconds they are free from the garments anyway.

And moments later, when they're staring into each other's eyes as he moves inside her, they both have these three little words on the tip of their tongues, desperate to say them out loud, to declare their love.

Neither gives in to that urge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Cape of Storms always made me so damn fascinated during my history classes. I've been waiting a long time to finally be able to include it in my story :D
> 
> Next chapter, some last moments of peace for our babies before they make it to Somalia. I will finally explore the crew. We will also check on those who remained in Nassau, probably, and maybe on Mr. Low too ;)


	9. In the Arms of the Pirate

"A message arrived last night." Flint tells the concerned mother as Caroline sits with him at the tavern while they have breakfast. "Eleanor said they stopped briefly at some port near Madagascar. But they're probably on the move again already. Right now, it's probably around 5 in the afternoon for them. Good news is that she's safe, even though they faced an ugly storm a week ago. Bad news is that they're close to Somalia. According to Jack's calculations, they will be there within the next eight days."

The medium scowls, burying her face in her hands. There are dark bags under her eyes. Ever since Eleanor left the Island, she's been unable to sleep well.

Just like Flint.

They often meet at the kitchen in the middle of the night after tossing and turning in their beds for hours. After finally giving up on sleeping, the two usually talk until dawn comes, about everything. They have been getting really close, their love and worry for Eleanor helping to create a good friendship between them.

Flint knew he wouldn't regret receiving this gentle medium in his new house.

Scott comes over to their table, concern written all over his tired face too.

"I heard you saying she sent a message. Is my child okay?"

He nods, sighing briefly. "For now, at least."

The other man shakes his head at his words. "Is it too late for us to go after them and drag Eleanor back home?"

Caroline looks up at him, the sadness in her eyes breaking both of the men's hearts.

"We need to trust them with this. Trust  _her_. And pray that nothing bad will happen." She pauses, eyes still locked with Scott's. "You were there. Was Teach too angry when she made Charles betray him? Just how badly do you think he will react to her presence?"

Before he can answer, Flint speaks.

"It's not that particular episode I am concerned about. But what happened years later. What she did... Who she killed." He falls silent for a moment, narrowing his eyes as he sees a certain con man walking inside the tavern. But he's quick to focus back on the two other people at the table. "And well, my guess is that Teach will want to have her killed as soon as he sees her."

Caroline's eyes glint with tears, just as John reaches their table, already starting to talk to Scott.

"So, your daughter wanted me to let you know that she and Agatha will come home late tonight-" He interrupts his own words upon noticing how heavy and somber the atmosphere is at the table. "Did someone die?"

Flint shoots him a dark glare as Scott shakes his head. "We were talking about Eleanor. They are almost in Somalia already."

The con man rolls his eyes briefly. "Whatever. As I was saying, Madi and your wife won't be home for dinner tonight, they will stay in the city until 11 or something like that."

Scott nods at his words, giving Caroline's shoulder one last reassuring squeeze before leaving the table to take care of the customers as he's supposed to do during Eleanor's absence.

"I should probably go back home. Maybe try and get some rest." The blonde medium says, getting to her feet and failing to notice the brief despair that flickers in Flint's eyes as she says goodbye to him and John.

After she walks out of the establishment silence reigns for a few seconds, but when John tries to speak the older man gets to his feet and leaves the place too.

* * *

He thinks he's free. It's a short walk to the harbor and Flint really thinks he will not be followed.

But of course, you can never get rid of a sticky plague so easily.

"You know, it's rude to leave when your friend is about to say something. Luckily for you, I am not easily offended."

His eye roll is automatic as John catches up to him, walking by his side.

"Friend?" He spits the word out with a raised eyebrow and the con man shrugs, flashing him one of those infuriating smirks.

"I haven't considered killing you in this new life, not even once. I suppose that counts as progress, don't you?"

The reference to their past makes the corners of Flint's lips twitch up involuntarily.

"So you deemed it appropriate to come pester me with no apparent reason?"

John chuckles briefly at the partial, veiled hostility in his tone.

"I was alone at the house. Madi left to the city with Agatha, I didn't know what to do with myself. And you know that boredom kills me."

The older man rolls his eyes again and he frowns, only now noticing where they were going. "Isn't your house a few blocks behind the tavern?"

"I'm not headed there. I'm headed to the harbor."

"Why?"

Flint stops abruptly, giving him a glare. His patience is clearly running thin. But soon a brief sigh escapes him, and he stares at the ocean. "It's the end of the month... My ship is coming. I haven't seen her in weeks."

John lowers his eyes for a second, remembering the original one in solemn silence before looking at his face again. "I didn't get the chance to see her yet."

Curiosity is sparkling in his eyes and Flint is ready to send him on his way, wanting to be alone for the moment when he's reunited with the Walrus.

But maybe John deserves this...

And the pride for his ship speaks louder.

He continues to walk, not sparing the con man even the briefest glance.

Still, John can't help but smile when his voice reaches his ears.

"Come along. But quietly, if you please."

* * *

The wind caresses Eleanor's face gently as she sits on a barrel, distracted, eyes going back and forth from the bow of the ship to the sketchbook on her lap, and then back to the bow.

She's almost done with her sketch when a shadow looms over her.

"You have talent, Miss."

A smile plays on her lips as she looks over at the owner of the voice.

The calmest member of Charles' new crew, the only one she can actually look at, without wanting to murder him. They call him Keswick, she remembers him from the Walrus crew and he seems to have a soft spot for both her and Anne.

Probably because he was supposed to have a daughter around their age today but she died as a child in a tragic car accident, along with his wife.

Many of the reincarnations seem to be surrounded by tragedy, she notices.

_Karma is a bitch sometimes._

"Thank you. It's a passion I've had since my early childhood. How are you this afternoon?"

He brings his hands to the rail, staring at the vast ocean in front of him. "Couldn't be better. The winds are in our favor, the sea is calm. And this is something I have always wanted to do. Travel on a ship, a wooden sailing ship. I feel as if my very soul always urged me to do this, strangely."

Eleanor hides her half smirk, knowing exactly why he felt like this. "That's really odd. But I'm glad you can have this experience now."

He chuckles, nodding his head as she goes back to her sketch. "I owe it all to you. It's strange, but Nassau seemed so grey... Until the four of you arrived. You opened that tavern of yours. I must say, it's the first pirate themed attraction I see that feels... Accurate. I always felt drawn to this world, but the whole museum, the tours, I don't know, it simply feels... Forced. But you, Miss, you managed to give us a taste of what I imagine a legit pirate tavern from the 18th century looked like." She just keeps sketching, unable to fight away the warm smile that comes to her lips, nostalgia for the past life taking her over as Keswick speaks again. "And when I heard about this crew your husband was gathering, I knew I had to join it."

Her hand stops immediately, alarm filling her eyes for a second before she realizes he was actually talking about Charles.

And Eleanor can't help but laugh.

"Oh, he's not my husband. I will never marry. Not again."

He frowns at that, meeting her eyes again. "Isn't that every woman's life dream?"

Eleanor shakes her head, glancing at the helm where her criminal stood, steering his ship in the most natural way.

The sight never fails to send a shiver down her spine.

"Not modern women. Many of us don't give a fuck about marriage, or even children anymore."

Keswick raises an eyebrow and she prepares herself for some stupid misogynistic speech.

But then he simply chuckles, looking out at the ocean again. "Guess I need to keep myself updated then."

She nods, relieved. "Besides... I had a really bad experience with marriage, so..."

She shrugs and Keswick grimaces. "Then it's probably best that you avoid the nuptial knot, Miss."

Eleanor gives him a bright smile, watching as he walked away to go back to his chores.

She sketches for a few more minutes until the sun begins to set. Now that the light isn't too good anymore she gets to her feet, heading to the hatch door behind the helm and going down the ladder to put the sketchbook away before climbing up to the deck again.

Sighing briefly, she stops right beside Charles, enjoying the spectacle of colors painting the skies for a moment before looking at his face.

The little smile on her lips vanishes instantly.

He has a predatory look on his face, and not the good kind, not the kind she sees in the privacy of their cabin every night.

It's so much darker, calculating...

_Animalistic._

Trying to ignore her growing alarm, she follows his eyes. And a shudder goes down her spine when she catches sight of a cargo ship on the horizon, barely visible.

_Old instincts._

She lets her eyes drop to the wheel and notices he's gripping the spokes hard, to the point his knuckles are turning white.

Her own fingers go to his, caressing them soothingly and bringing him back to reality. He meets her eyes, sighing heavily before one of his hands lets go of the wheel to pull her in front of his body.

She leans back against him, touching his arms as he continued to steer the ship.

Eleanor notices he keeps turning his neck to look at the cargo ship from times to times.

"Hey." She speaks in a firm voice, bringing one hand to his cheek. "Stop that. You're not hunting."

Even though she can't see his face, his low groan is perfectly audible.

Eleanor just hopes her touch will always be enough to remind him that he has her in his ship now. And the last thing he wants is to endanger her safety.

Still, it clearly takes him a lot of willpower not to give chase. And it scares her, honestly.

_What if one day he's unable to resist?_

* * *

The late morning sun filters in through the glass of the balcony door while Flint checks if all the belongings he left in his private quarters are untouched.

While trying to ignore a certain annoying con man, shamelessly rummaging through his stuff as well.

"Thought I told you not to touch anything." He complains through gritted teeth and John snorts, shaking his head.

"Please. You know me better than that."

He rolls his eyes, already regretting deeply his decision of letting this infuriating human being come along.

_What was he thinking?_

"I know you probably feel bad in that house and truly, I understand your reasons." John begins, just as he starts to grow restless.

Truth be told, he wasn't eager just to see the Walrus again. He ended up forgetting something really important here in the cabin, somehow, and it was making him crazy. But Flint can't find the damned picture anywhere, and it's killing him.

_Is it lost forever?_

"But Agatha and Madi really want to have you over for dinner or whatever someday. They think you're acting sort of distant... And I told them it's normal, but of course these two never listen to me... So maybe you could come spend some time with us soon?"

Flint finally pauses, meeting his eyes as he shrugs, clearly uncomfortable. "Just to make them happy, really. They truly want to see you more often... Maybe you could bring Caroline too, she's nice. Never thought I'd actually like a woman who looks so much like that-"

"I advise you to watch your words about Eleanor while you're in my presence."

The con man instantly falls silent, rolling his eyes as silence stretches for a few moments between them.

"Apologies, Super Dad." His voice drips with sarcasm. "So? Can I tell Madi and Agatha that you'll start to come around more often soon?"

Flint narrows his eyes at him and his insistence, and a question almost tumble from his lips.

_Is it them who want to see me more, or is it you?_

He soon abandons that line of thought, shrugging briefly.

"In truth... I don't really know. You're the first one I tell, but I plan on leaving the Island for a while." His words are met with stunned silence as John frowns at him. "In two weeks, the Walrus will travel to Australia. And I plan on leaving with her."

The con man lowers his eyes for a moment. "So you'll be closer to Somalia. I see you're taking this whole father figure story a lot more seriously than I initially thought."

"It has nothing to do with Eleanor. I need to get away from this place for a while."

For a second, it seems as if John is about to say something. But soon, he goes back to snooping into the stuff that isn't his.

Flint considers complaining about it, but it would be no use so he just resumes the search for his most valuable possession.

Minutes drag on until John's voice reaches his ears again.

"Uh... I think I found what you're looking for so enthusiastically."

He immediately turns around, seeing the con man holding the photograph in his hand.

"That's him, isn't it?"

Jaw clenched hard, Flint closes the distance between them in a heartbeat and snatches the picture from his fingers.

After checking it all over and making sure that it was unharmed, he meets John's eyes.

"Just get out of here."

He knows better than to try and argue.

So in a matter of seconds the owner of the cruise ship is left all alone with his pain.

* * *

The loud ruckus makes her roll her eyes for what's probably the 100th time tonight as Eleanor reaches for the rum bottle to refill her mug.

Now why exactly did she agree to this stupid idea of drinking with the crew below deck?

Charles is right beside her, playing some idiotic card game with those imbeciles, and  _why in the world can't they do this quietly_?

Instead, they keep cheering, yelling and banging their fists against the table with each victory and defeat.

Jack has an equally annoyed look on his face as she meets his eyes. He's sitting right across from her, his hand caressing Anne's red hair as she rests her head on his lap, completely drunk by now.

It's a damn miracle she's so calm, not attacking Eleanor verbally as she does every time she has alcohol coursing through her system. Most times Charles or Jack have to intervene.

But she's probably just exhausted, having spent the whole day doing heavy work with the men.

She insisted, of course.

And if at first the crew had any witty remarks to make about her small, "fragile" female body, she was quick to shut them up. Now they have only the most utter respect for her.

It's no surprise. This little brute would never lower her head to a man, or to anyone else. And Eleanor can't help but admire this part of Anne.

Just like she always did, even if she never admitted it to herself.

A new wave of loud cheers catches her by surprise and she jumps on her seat, feeling a headache coming on and shaking her head in disapproval as Charles looks at her with pride written all over his face.

Just because he wins those stupid card games every time, he thinks it will impress her.

"It doesn't count if you cheat." She tells him once they're finally back to the privacy and _sweet silence_ of their cabin and he rolls his eyes, discarding his brown leather jacket.

"Cheating is just another way of playing the game. And it's not everyone who's smart enough to pull it off. I'm eager to see how good my sister will be at it." He chuckles as Eleanor scowls at him in warning. "What? You know she wants me to teach her how to play cards. That includes teaching her my best cheating techniques."

"You will most certainly  _not_  do that! For fuck's sake, at least  _try_  to set a good example! Mary will castrate you if she finds out-"

" _Mary_  won't be able to say a word of complaint." He smirks at her confused face. "Who do you think taught me all those cheating tactics in the first place?"

Eleanor narrows her eyes at him, trying to put up a fight as he comes closer and pulls her to him, that damn smirk still in place.

But of course, she melts as soon as these skilled lips attack her sensitive neck.

* * *

A loud curse leaves his lips as Ned throws his glass to the nearest wall in frustration, watching it shatter.

Things are not going the way he had planned.

He should be in in Nassau already by now, but being a wanted man, he needs fake documents and the guy who once took care of that for him was arrested.

As for others... He doesn't have a very good relationship with them.

Not only that, he recently ended up spending most of his money on drugs and alcohol to cope with all the confusion when his memories finally came back.

And plane tickets to the Bahamas are not exactly cheap. Sarah would have probably been able to help with that, but the damn woman seems to have disappeared.

That familiar thirst for revenge strikes again and he takes a deep breath, trying to get himself under control.

He just wants blood.

_Things are definitely more difficult now that he doesn't have an entire crew at his beck and call..._

But he's never been one to give up too easily. When Sarah sought him out, he was buried in the drugs, unable to function or think about anything other than the mess those conflicting memories were causing on his already disturbed mind. But as she spoke about harming Charles, as he thought about the possibility of making Eleanor pay... Something inside him snapped in that moment and in a matter of seconds, he was back to his previous, normal self.

_This is personal._

Of course he will be glad to receive a large amount of money for his services, but even if he's unable to reach Sarah, he still wants to do this.

Their suffering will be already enough to satisfy him.

For now, however, this paradise is out of his reach and he knows it.

He needs help.

But where is he going to find someone with the money, the means to get to the Island  _and_  the will to harm Charles?

The answer comes to his mind in a matter of seconds.

And a dark grin plays on his lips.

* * *

Mason rubs his tired eyes while making his way to the nursery. Trying to deal with Woodes and his dementia episodes is turning out to be a nearly impossible mission.

No matter what he tries to say, what he tries to do, it always comes back to  _her_.

His brother doesn't seem to remember what Eleanor did, her betrayal, or about how she left with that filthy criminal on her own free will. Woodes insists on the idea that she was kidnapped, that she's in danger and needing him to save her... At this point, the doctors already gave him the bad news. This whole behavior is not due to the coma anymore.

It seems his little brother has gone insane.

And then there's Aiden.

There are days when Woodes wants nothing to do with the baby, and others when he asks to see him.

Every time, it's a disaster.

Aiden cries desperately whenever he's placed in his father's arms, and this seems to make Woodes even more frustrated. Mason just can't understand it. That baby only cries in these occasions, for the rest of the time he stays silent, even when he's hungry.

Maybe the nurse is right and babies do sense our emotions. And he can't really blame little Aiden for being scared of his father's madness.

This poses as a problem for their battle in court.

What judge will want to give full custody of a child to a mad man?

Everything is falling apart and he just needed a break from his brother.

Lately, Woodes has been saying that it's Max's fault that his son refuses to stay in his arms. Apparently he thinks the nurse is somehow putting ideas in the newborn's head, as crazy as that is. And he also accuses her of being in league with the monster who "kidnapped" his "wife".

It's a complete chaos.

To make things even worse, Mason knows that soon his brother will be able to leave the safety of the hospital. And since he's been making progress with therapy, he's almost walking again.

What happens when he's free to go home? Will Aiden be enough to keep him in LA?

Or will he take the Eurydice and leave in search for Charles and Eleanor as he says he will do?

Sighing heavily as his head throbs, Mason opens that familiar door, needing the comfort of his nephew's sweet face to make him feel better.

But what he finds inside the room only makes his blood boil.

Sarah is here, breastfeeding the newborn.

It's not fair that he doesn't cry with her too.

That nurse who takes care of him, the one he saw in the Guthrie Mansion all those months ago, watches the scene in silence. And he doesn't know if she's happy or sad to see Aiden in his mother's arms.

Sarah's face grows cold as soon as she sees him, her warm smile vanishing instantly.

He doesn't even greet her, looking over at Max.

"How is he?"

"Improving, finally. Soon, he will be able to leave the hospital."

There's a hint of sadness in her tone. It seems she grew fond of Aiden.

But she could never have a place in his nephew's life.

He and his brother have no regard for her  _kind_.

"What about his father? Is he still crazy?"

He notices how Sarah lowers her eyes to the baby in her arms again.

Curiously, ever since she gave birth she's been staying away from Woodes, showing no signs of wanting to see him.

"Watch your words." He barks out the words, clenching his jaw when he sees the way Sarah holds Aiden closer to her chest as he looks at the newborn again.

His thoughts keep coming back to his brother. Mason knows he needs to find a way to bring him back to normal.

Maybe if he could find Eleanor, maybe if they could put an end to this whole story it would be enough to cure that madness?

But who would be able to help? She and her lover could be anywhere in the world by now.

If Max knows anything, it's already clear that she won't talk.

_But maybe..._

Without thinking twice, he turns around, heading to the door.

"Where are you going?" The nurse's voice reaches his ears and he stops, turning around to look at her.

She has an alarmed look on her face and he knows how to read people.

Yes. This woman really knows more than she's letting out on.

He's about to answer with an acid remark, but decides to enlighten her.

"I need to go have a little chat with Richard Guthrie."

* * *

_He's dreaming about Davina._

Sound asleep, the peaceful lullaby of crashing waves and creaking wood resounding through the cabin as the ocean cradles his ship.

But suddenly there's a disturbance to this serenity, incoherent mumbles invading Charles' dreams.

It's Eleanor's voice and it sounds so pained, so distressed, that it instantly rouses him from his sleep.

_It seems he's truly ready to defend her at all times._

The moonlight filtering in through the line of windows lets him see her clearly and the first thing he notices is that she's shaking her head, eyes squeezed shut as she fusses in his arms, delicate fists clenched against his chest.

Whatever the dream is about, it must be something horrible.

Charles watches her closely even as his chest tightens painfully, heart urging him to wake her up. But she would probably just shut him out, and he needs to try and find out what the nightmare is about.

It's usual for Eleanor to talk in her sleep.

In this life and in the previous. It's something he constantly teases her about, and it amuses him that she used to call his name in her sleep, both in Max's and Rogers' bed, as he learned in this new life.

But the current situation is not amusing in the slightest.

He leans closer, trying to understand what she's saying. And as soon as he succeeds, his heart breaks.

" _Get him down_!"

It's a broken whisper.

But as the nightmare progresses she speaks louder, shaking her head nonstop as he sees tears trying to escape her closed eyes.

"Please... Please get him down!"

Her voice is filled with such anguish, such despair. It snaps him into action and he grabs a hold of her shoulders, shaking her gently.

But she's just too lost in the depths of her horror, voice rising even more.

"Somebody, cut the fucking rope! He's still alive!"

God, this is torture both for her  _and_  for him.

But luckily she starts to wake up when he shakes her harder, eyes opening slowly as she continues with her desperate pleas, not fully back from the nightmare yet.

"He's still alive, there's still... time..."

"Eleanor, it's okay. Calm down."

Her horrified, tear-filled eyes meet his and she lets out a broken sob of his name, trying to hold back her tears as he pulls her even closer, letting her bury her face in the crook of his neck.

"It's okay. I'm here. I'm alright."

His hands move over her naked back soothingly as she lets out a shaky breath, speaking in a tone so quiet he almost doesn't hear.

"I'm sorry..."

Pressing a kiss to her soft hair, Charles sighs. Now that they spend every night together, it's rare for her to have the nightmare.

But still, sometimes it comes back to haunt her.

_And it hurts them both._

While he feels extremely helpless to see that sometimes not even his presence is enough to chase away her bad dreams, Eleanor feels so thankful.

All those times she woke up scared in the middle of the night after the memories came back, the sight of his dead body plaguing her mind. She just wanted the comfort of his arms around her but he was so angry with her back then. All she had was his shirt. Just to remember those horrible nights, it makes her cling to him as if her life depends on it, pride momentarily forgotten.

_She's just so thankful._

It feels so much better to have him here with her after the nightmare.

The soft caresses of his hands on the skin of her back, mixed with the occasional kisses to the top of her head and reassuring words he whispers in her ear with that  _voice_  (she will never find a better soothing medicine), soon start to lull her to slumber again.

But she barely stays asleep for five minutes before something brings her back to full awareness.

By now, Eleanor is already used to waking up in the middle of the night and the culprits are usually sounds she's gotten to know well over the past few weeks.

The stupid crew.

A harder wave crashing against the hull.

Anne yelling at Jack.

The list goes on and on, but this...

This is something she never heard before.

It sounds almost like... A song?

A deep song, weird in the most  _beautiful_  way.

Slowly, she glances up at Charles' face, noticing the smirk tugging at his lips. It makes her frown in confusion.

"What the fuck is that?"

He meets her eyes, his smirk growing. "Have you ever seen a whale, Honeypot?"

* * *

Her steps are rushed as they make their way through the dark, empty corridors. She tried seeing the creatures from their windows, but it was impossible. So Eleanor grabbed her robe from the dresser, urging her criminal to get dressed too and come to the deck with her.

At first he rolled his eyes, but the excitement written all over her face hit him right on his weak spot and he obeyed, of course.

The deep, rich song gets louder when they emerge on deck, and she sees Keswick at the bow with Jack and Anne.

"Happy first whale watching, d- Miss Guthrie."

One of her eyebrows raise at this.

_Did he just almost call her darling?_

Luckily for him, Anne didn't notice, eyes glued to the water.

A smile plays on her lips as she stares out at the dark ocean too, looking for them on the horizon...

But what is her surprise when Charles touches her shoulder, pointing to a spot much closer to the ship... And she sees a bluish-grey portion of slippery skin peeking out of the water.

Eleanor doesn't even blink as the creature moves even closer to them, expelling air through its blowhole. It causes the water resting near it to splash up in a breathtaking sight, a unique spray in the night air.

"Which kind is it?" She manages to ask, too amazed to function properly, even though she has a good guess, considering the massive size...

"It's a blue whale. We're lucky." Jack confirms her suspicions, and it only makes her admiration for this creature grow.

"Fuck, it's so huge." She speaks quietly, moving closer to Charles when he brings an arm around her waist, his hand resting on the rail. "Do they swim alone? Or are there more around?"

"Usually they're loners, yes. But sometimes, they swim in small pods. It seems this one is alon-"

Jack's words are cut off when two other whales, even bigger than the first one swim up to the surface too, gently gliding through the water beside their friend.

They move out of the water as much as they possibly can, letting Eleanor see their huge bodies clearly.

"It seems they know it's your first time. These three are making a show, they're usually much more discreet." Jack says and to emphasize his words, one of the giants lifts a fin out of the ocean as if to wave at them, while the biggest one splashes water with its tail.

Eleanor can't help the brief, joyful laugh that leaves her lips.

_This feels like a beautiful dream._

Such a magical moment can't possibly be real, can it?

"A calf." Anne finally speaks, pointing to a spot a couple of meters behind the trio of giants.

Eleanor's smile only grows even brighter as she sees the smaller creature breaking through the water too, swimming closer to its mother.

Jack laughs briefly, shaking his head. "Amazing. It must be the best sighting we ever had. When was the last time we saw them, Charles? Do you remember?"

She feels him stiffen briefly beside her.

"Just a few weeks before the whole... incident when we lost the ship."

Guilt pierces her heart for a second. But it's soon forgotten as the five of them continue to watch the blue whales, dancing just for them.

Eleanor's eyes shine with pure wonder as she stares at the creatures in awe, her mouth slightly parted. He just cant't get enough of this gorgeous sight.

"They're so beautiful... they're just... so perfect..."

Four majestic creatures swimming next to a ship in the middle of the night, in a spectacle better than anything she's ever seen, a spectacle that money cannot buy.

_And it's reserved only for them._

Right now, she can't bring herself to regret this journey.

And God, she takes this magical moment to her heart.

Later, after the small pod parts way with them, the pair descends to their cabin in peaceful silence.

Eleanor can't stop herself from saying the words.

"Thank you so much. For giving me this."

Charles' half smile is like the most beautiful gem as he moves closer and gathers her in his arms. "I could have given you this three hundred years ago, you know. If only you weren't so stubborn."

She chuckles briefly, eyes still glinting in pure awe. "It's what they always say about you and I... Better late than never."

He stares at her face for a moment before kissing her lips, pulling her back towards their bunk while working on the ties of her robe, the magic from their encounter with the blue whales still in the air.

* * *

_E_ _verything is dark._

_The air is humid and she's in so much pain..._

_The dark floor beneath her chills her to the bone as she screams, pushing..._

_Her inner muscles work hard at expelling something from inside her._

_And then cries fill her dark cell._

_Weakly, Mary opens her eyes, reaching for her newborn baby with trembling hands, but they're taking her away..._

_"Please... Let me hold her, just this once..."_

_She begs and pleads as she never did before, but it's no use as those monsters leave the dark cell with her daughter, the pain growing stronger._

_Mary barely notices the alarming amount of blood, a puddle getting larger and larger between her still parted legs, the fading cries of her child ringing in her ears. And this pain is a thousand times worse than her physical suffering..._

_Even as everything goes silent she keeps screaming as loudly as she can, begging for her daughter as tears run down her face._

_But just as she hears a commotion, just as she hears someone opening her cell, everything starts to go black._

_She's just so weak._

_"Mary... Please hold on. We'll get you out of here, just hold on... Don't die on us."_

_She knows it's a man, kneeling in front of her._

_But her eyes fall closed and she's dying..._

Mary wakes up with a choked gasp, the pain still lingering as her hands fly to her stomach.

Heart racing, she takes a look around her room, listening to the sound of the crashing waves just outside the safe house.

This strange nightmare has been a common occurrence, and Mary has no idea what it means. Or why she feels such anguish after waking up from it.

_A sense of loss..._

Her body tenses, eyes filling with alarm as someone opens the door of her room.

But she relaxes when a small voice reaches her ears.

"Mama?"

She's been crying, Mary notices, hearing the sadness and the fear in Davina's voice.

"What is it, baby?" She asks sleepily, sitting up in bed as her adoptive daughter walks closer, lower lip trembling slightly. "Are you sick?"

The little girl shakes her head, climbing on the bed by her side.

"Bad dream?"

Davina nods, sniffling quietly. "Charlie was laying on a floor made of wood, I saw a hole on his stomach and a lot of blood, it was scary."

Her heart clenches for her baby girl and she holds her close, caressing her dark hair. "It wasn't real, baby. Your brother's fine. He's sailing right now, I talked to him just two days ago, he's really close already. You will see him soon, I promise."

Soft sobs are still wracking her small body from times to times and Mary sighs, kissing the top of her head. "You're just worried about him and I understand. He's out there, and you know the open sea can be a dangerous place. It's only natural for you to have nightmares."

Davina buries her face in her mother's chest. She really does know how dangerous the ocean can be.

Back when they were traveling from their previous home in Nassau to Somalia they faced a huge storm.

Davina was so curious that she defied Mary's orders and went up on the deck. The six-year-old ended up falling into the ocean and if it wasn't for Billy jumping after her and bringing her back to safety, she would have died.

"Do you think he will be okay, Mama?"

The quiet voice brings a soft smile to Mary's face.

"I'm sure he will. It's strange, as far as I know he never had any experience with ships before, but he seems to be a very good sailor. Eleanor told me he expertly got the ship through a nasty storm the last time she called me."

Admiration shines in her big blue eyes as Davina looks up at her face. "Really?"

"Really, sweetheart. He'll be just fine."

"I want to see the Ranger. He's going to teach me how to steer it!"

Mary smiles, happy to see that she's managing to take her daughter's attention away from the nightmare.

"Yes he will. Just remember he has some matters to settle with Teach first so be patient, okay?"

She nods, the sweetest smile ever on her lips. "I will, mama. I promise."

Mary presses a kiss to her forehead and Davina lays on the mattress. She may be calmer now, but she's still too scared to go back to her own room. Mary holds her close, caressing her soft hair even after she's sound asleep.

She may have said those things to reassure Davina, but deep down she knows that once the Ranger gets here, things will be anything but calm. Hell will break loose when Teach sees Eleanor, even though she has no idea where this deep grudge comes from.

It hurt her to make this decision, but she has already talked to Billy. If something happens, if things get dangerous, they will get Davina and leave this place, Eleanor and Charles be damned.

As much as the thought of doing this kills her, she knows they need to put their little girl first.

And that's exactly what she's going to do.


	10. Into the Lion's Den

She watches Charles as he rows the lifeboat in silence, darkness surrounding them from all sides.

The outline of their ship barely visible, Eleanor's chest tightening painfully as they get further and further away from its familiar comfort.

Glancing at the dark waters, she tries to shut away her fear, keeping her chin raised high until they reach the secluded beach where a lone, familiar figure awaits them.

Mary's face remains serious for a moment but soon a smirk tugs at her lips and she wraps an arm around Charles' neck in a quick hug before greeting Eleanor too.

"I'm so glad you made it in one piece. Did someone see the ship?"

Charles shakes his head, glancing over his shoulder in the direction of the Ranger.

"Okay, we'll have to walk for half an hour to reach the safe house."

"Is there anyone from the headquarters out and about at this time?" The criminal asks as the trio begins to walk, relying on Mary's guidance since they decided against flashlights for discretion's sake.

"Don't worry. The pirates stay underground after 9 p.m., and so does Teach. No one will see us."

Eleanor's hand seeks his as they walk behind Mary and he squeezes it reassuringly, trying to make her feel better.

Silence reigns, except for the variety of sounds coming from unseen insects Eleanor really does not want to get more familiar with. Their feet sink slightly in the sand, and she notices the cold. It seems Agatha was right about this place becoming chilly during nighttime.

There's not a single house or hut in sight, the full moon illuminating their path. It could be a pretty place, she supposes...

If she wasn't so damn terrified for what's to come in the next few days.

After what feels like just a few minutes they make a turn and she immediately sees two buildings looming in the distance. One relatively small, a two-story house, right in front of the beach.

It's welcoming enough, to be honest.

But Eleanor's blood runs cold as her eyes settle on the other building, considerably larger, a little further away from the beach and the safe house.

The "Marine Research Center", of course.

An hostile look comes to her face automatically as she thinks about who's inside that place, underground, just waiting for his nephew to arrive...

Her hand grips Charles' even tighter.

Mary takes a quick look around, making sure they were really alone before facing the couple and forcing a smile.

"I know it's not much, Eleanor, but-"

"Don't." The blonde interrupts her familiar speech, offering her a weak smile too. "I'm tired of people seeing me as some spoiled little princess, because that's not what I am, even though I had everything to become one. I'm not linked to my father anymore. I left him and his stupid mansion, his stupid beach houses and châteaus behind. So don't worry about this, please."

Mary considers her for a moment before nodding and gesturing to the front door. "Go on now. The longer you spend out here, the higher the risks are."

Eleanor shares a quick, meaningful look with Charles before letting go of his hand, taking her bag from him and disappearing inside the house.

He watches the door, sighing heavily.

"Hey." Mary touches his arm, offering him a sympathetic look. "Billy and I will watch over her, alright? And you'll see her again soon. I don't know how long Teach will want to keep you there, but you can always give the excuse of wanting to see Davina to leave the headquarters and come check on Eleanor. It will be okay."

"It's the first time she will stay out of my sight for an extended period of time since I rescued her from Rogers' mansion and we worked things out for good... And I already know that I won't like it one bit."

Mary chuckles at his tone. "I know. You feel as if you're leaving her vulnerable. But Charles, protecting her doesn't mean keeping her by your side at all times. Right now, this is the best way to keep her safe and you know it, so just suck it up."

He scoffs at her words, offering her an almost imperceptible half smirk before turning around to start his way back to the rowboat.

"Before you leave..." Mary's voice makes him stop in his tracks and glance at her over his shoulder. She smiles softly. "Would you like to see your sister for a moment?"

* * *

Loud thunder sounds from above as he stands on the cliff.

But he knows it won't rain. He knows this place and the weather by now. His father taught him how to read nature like a book from a young age after all.

He lowers his eyes to the ocean below.

_Is Adrik still burning in hell, paying for his sins?_

His jaw clenches, that sight of his father falling to the ground all those years ago coming back to haunt him once again as he desperately tries to focus on the task at hand.

The Madame gave the order for the men in their community to take turns; each one of them has to come up here on the cliff to watch the ocean once every week.

It probably has something to do with those mysterious visitors she says they will receive soon.

Vasyl has yet to understand how she feels about that.

Usually, the Asian is very reserved and most times the thought of any outsiders coming here is enough to make her angry. But this time, she's acting so neutral.

He wonders what these new visitors have to make them special in her eyes.

Or why they are going to need their help.

* * *

Max smiles warmly at the baby in her arms, his big blue eyes shining as he brings both hands to his tiny lips. He's been getting more vocal, cooing and gurgling regularly. It only makes him even more adorable.

It's almost noon in LA and she's enjoying some time alone with Aiden before her lunch break, even though she knows this is probably not wise.

Max ended up getting a little too attached to the infant during the last month, since that scary day when he was born nearly dead. She nursed him back to health after all. And Aiden is more comfortable with her than he is with Mason or even Sarah. He often fusses when she's not around, though only crying when his father tries to hold him.

She has a feeling that if Aiden had it his way, he would just choose to go home with her instead of with his own mother, uncle or father.

But still, of course this doesn't mean he will.

Sarah will be leaving the hospital tomorrow.

And she will finally take Aiden home.

Tears threaten to come to Max's eyes but she holds back, moving closer to the small crib and gently placing the infant on it just as the door opens.

She instantly puts on an unfriendly face, thinking it was Mason or his brother.

But it's just Sarah, quietly walking inside the room to check up on her son.

She notices this woman has been acting really weird since she gave birth, almost as if she feels guilty about something... and scared.

As if she regrets something very deeply.

"How's my son?" She asks quietly, coming closer to the crib.

Aiden shows no special reaction to his mother's voice, but when Max speaks, he looks in her direction despite the fact his vision is probably still very blurry.

"You have nothing to worry about anymore. He'll be just fine."

Sarah nods, forcing a smile. But her eyes remain sad.

"You know, I've read so much..." She begins, reaching to caress her son's face. "Newborns usually bond with their mothers so quickly... But Aiden is just so indifferent to me, and no matter how hard I try, this is not changing, there is no progress..."

_Because he has already bonded with_  me,Max bites her tongue not to say the words out loud.

"Every baby is different. They have their own time, you can't rush things. I assure you it will be better once you take him home."

She sighs heavily, shaking her head. "I just feel as if I will never be able to reach him... To bond with my own child."

_Maybe if you tried to take better care of him during your pregnancy instead of letting him starve, he would like you a little better_  today.

Again, Max bites her tongue.

"To be honest, I'm scared of leaving this hospital."

She frowns at Sarah's words, looking from Aiden to her worried face.

"I know it may seem scary to be alone with a new baby, but-"

"It's not that." Sarah meets her eyes, scowling softly. "I... did something and I regret it so deeply."

Max stays silent, waiting to see if she would decide to confide in her.

And she does.

"Weeks ago, shortly before Aiden was born... I was so desperate. All I could think about was Woodes, wondering if he would ever wake up... Mason told me, about Eleanor and her lover. I was just so angry, I wasn't thinking clearly."

Max approaches her slowly, trying not to sound too alarmed. "Sarah, what did you do?"

"I sought out a very shady man... I wanted to make these two pay, so I made a deal with this... This  _maniac_ called Edward Low."

Max closes her eyes briefly and clenches her jaw, feeling her heart sink as Sarah continues to talk.

"I was willing to pay for his services, if he found them and brought Charles to us, so that savage bastard could respond for his crimes... He said he would do it, on one condition. He wanted Eleanor for himself. And I agreed to his terms."

Max's eyes open and she shakes her head briefly, trying her best to rein in her anger.

"You were ready to hand Eleanor over to that psycho, as if she was nothing." She speaks slowly, unable to believe how a 21th century woman could do this to another.

_Guess spending time with Woodes made Sarah pick up on his habit of seeing Eleanor as an object, a piece of furniture,_  she thinks in sarcasm, scoffing softly at the woman in front of her.

"You speak as if you know who that man is." Sarah says in confusion and she hesitates for a brief moment.

"I don't. But you said it yourself that he's a maniac and I know very well that this city is filled with dangerous weirdos."

She seems satisfied by her answer, lowering her eyes to her son again.

"As I've said before... I regret what I did. When I gave birth, when I looked at Aiden's face for the first time, my priorities changed in a heartbeat. I do still love my ex-husband, that will probably never change, but he's not my main focus anymore. The most important thing in my life is Aiden now. I need to do what's best for me and my son, and... I don't want to be associated with that maniac anymore, Max. He's dangerous, I don't want him near my son." Her voice breaks, tears glinting in her eyes. "He's been trying to contact me but I don't answer his calls... However, once I leave the safety of the hospital..."

A sob leaves her lips as she hides her face in her hand. Her despair is palpable.

And Max can't bring herself to feel sorry for her, not in the slightest.

_Serves you right_ , she thinks, staring at the crying woman.

But her eyes soon drop to Aiden, now asleep in the crib. His innocent features cause her to frown in concern.

"Go to the police."

Sarah scoffs, shaking her head. "I can't. They can't know I am associated with him, and Mason is the chief of the police department, he would kill me if he knew, he would try to take Aiden from me."

Max rubs her forehead, brain racing.

"Then hire a personal bodyguard... Pay someone to watch your door, I know you have the money to do so. Just do whatever you need to keep Aiden safe from Low."

Sarah takes a few steps away from the crib before slowly meeting Max's eyes again. "Of course I will, I'm his mother. But... I have no idea what he likes. How he behaves. However, you do know him well, better than anyone... If I can't care for my son properly at first, maybe I will be able to count on you? I know you're already pretty busy as it is, but... Just maybe? I can pay you."

Max sighs, looking down at the infant.

_His sweet, innocent face..._

As she meets Sarah's eyes again, there is only one thought running through her mind.

_What the fuck am I getting myself into?_

And yet she nods, eyes glued to Aiden's adorable little face.

"Count on me."

* * *

Eleanor is already settled in the room Mary prepared for her, and Charles' eyes linger on the door for a moment as his ex-lover guides him through the safe house.

He's still too hesitant about leaving her here. All he wants to do is open that door and make her forget about all this hell they're about to go through, in the best way possible.

But these thoughts disappear as they get to the end of the short corridor and Mary opens another door, a dark brown one. He sees a single bed, touching one of the walls. A small window that offers a nice sight of the ocean, a dollhouse... he has a feeling his sister doesn't play with it too often.

The little wooden cutlass, however, is well worn and in fact, Davina's tiny's fingers are still loosely wrapped around the hilt as she holds it to her chest, letting out a soft, adorable groan in her sleep.

_Just like a miniature pirate Captain._

Pride swells in Charles' chest, taking him by surprise. All his worries about Eleanor are momentarily forgotten, his whole world is centered around his baby sister in this short moment.

A proud, loving smile plays on Mary's lips as they stare at the little girl curled up on the bed.

"Want me to wake her for you?"

Charles immediately shakes his head, unable to take his eyes away from his little pirate princess. His anchor necklace catches his eyes, the string wrapping around her delicate thumb, and it makes his heart skip a beat.

"No. Let her sleep."

His voice is barely above a whisper. The last thing he wants is to disturb Davina's peace.

So he burns the image of his sleeping sister into his brain before turning around, unable to fight away his smile.

_Everything will be just fine._

This thought comes suddenly and he can't help but agree with it. After all, his two most precious diamonds are perfectly safe inside this house. And he will continue to ensure their safety and their well being.

_Even if he has to sacrifice his own life to do so._

* * *

Jack can't stop smirking and looking all around as one of the Somali pirates guides them through the various underground corridors. Anne remains serious at his side, eyes glued to their leader while Charles walks ahead of them. At every turn, there are armed men.

They already recognized some of them as the savages from Charles' new crew after he went to confront Albinus. The three of them are impressed with the infrastructure. There are more men under Teach's command than they initially thought. All of the pirates look at them with scorn. It seems they will need to conquer their respect.

_Just like the good old days in Nassau._

Anne lets out a soft scoff as one of the men glares at her and Charles glances at them over his shoulder in silent warning as their "guide" reaches a large oak door.

There's a skeleton piercing a heart. The image is engraved on the wood and the trio simply stares at it for a few seconds.

_Remembering the past._

The pirate knocks once on the door before opening it.

"Sir? Your nephew is here."

For a few seconds, there's nothing but silence.

Charles straightens up, Jack and Anne sharing a look behind him as that familiar, grave voice comes from the unseen giant inside the office.

"Send him in."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know my chapters are usually much longer, but I couldn't resist this cliffhanger lol. Sorry guys! XD


	11. Don't You Worry Child

**_Havana_ **

**_30 Years Ago_ **

_The newborn fusses in his arm as he opens the large, heavy doors of the spiritist house, seeking refuge from the storm._

_Once inside, he sees **her,**  delicately snuffing out the candles._

_Her face is solemn as she slowly turns around to face him, no doubt already knowing what just happened._

_And she looks almost... Guilty?_

_Why?_

_"My condolences for Naomi." The Asian speaks, eyes moving from his face to the tiny baby in his arms. The child nearly disappears, his small body contrasting with his uncle's massive one._

_Edward has his enemies' blood on his face and she suspects there was even more, but the rain must have washed most of it away. Some of the red substance also stains the grey blanket safely wrapped around his nephew._

_"We're leaving Havana." He says, walking closer. The medium remains silent, eyes locked with his as he reaches out to touch her cheek with his left hand, his other arm still holding Charles protectively. "I know a man who can grant us safe passage to the US, we will be leaving tonight. In a couple of hours. There's no time to waste."_

_She tilts her head to the side slightly, waiting to hear what else he had to say while the newborn lets out a soft gurgle._

_"Come with me." His words make the Asian scoff and she lowers her eyes to Charles, watching as he grabbed his uncle's anchor pendant and bought it to his toothless mouth._

_"You know very well I cannot do that. I have people to take care of here. I know you want me to come so you will have someone to help you with Charles, but I-"_

_"You can't possibly believe that this is the only reason why I'm asking that you leave with us."_

_She just stays silent and he shakes his head, taking another step closer to her. Little Charles is almost squeezed between them by now, his soft body pressed against his uncle's and the Asian's. He shows no sign of protest, moving his little fingers and closing his eyes while letting out an adorable yawn._

_Edward's thumb trails down the medium's cheek and jawline, lingering on her delicate chin._

_"Listen, I care about you... I don't know if we will ever come back to Havana, this could very well be the last time we speak, should you decide to stay behind."_

_"So you think we can be one happy family? That you may have with me what you couldn't with all the others? That we will raise Charles together and everything will be just fine?"_

_His blue eyes move down to his nephew's innocent little face for a moment before meeting hers again. "Why not? Don't we deserve this peace, finally? After the lives we led centuries ago-"_

_"We did not pay for our sins just yet, Edward. I am trying to pay for mine, but what about you?" He averts his eyes, unable to look at her or even at Charles. The Asian sighs heavily, hesitantly bringing one hand to the back of his neck and leaning in to press the lightest kiss to his lips, mindful of the fragile newborn between them._

_"I just might accept your invitation and go with you. But it depends on your answer to a very simple question."_

_He stares at her in silence and she looks down at Charles again, smiling briefly and caressing his chubby cheek._

_"Will you do what's best for your nephew? Or will you raise Charles to be the same way he was in his previous life, encouraging him from a young age to join you on your search for revenge on those who wronged you and him in the past, once he's old enough?" Her heart sinks as the loving look on Edward's face turns to a cold glare. But she knows she can't back down. "Will you move on? Or still cling to the hope that one day you shall find your murderer and get vengeance?"_

_The giant moves away from her, now using both arms to support his nephew's weight as she stands there in front of the large table._

_She sees him make his decision, shielding Charles with his massive body and staring at her with rage-filled eyes._

_"I will let the marks all over my body speak for themselves."_

_He turns his back to her, heavy footsteps echoing through the place as he walks to the huge double doors._

_The Asian hesitates, his free hand moving to the doorknob before she finally speaks in her old, firm voice._

_"I never forgot who I am."_

_Just as she finishes the phrase, loud thunder comes from above._

_As if to reinforce her natural leadership, to remind the universe about who this woman is._

_Edward stops immediately, turning around to look at her, almost in submission._

_He admonished Charles so hard in the past, for lowering his head to a woman... And now he does the exact same thing._

**_It's absurdly pathetic, and he wouldn't have it any other way._ **

_"What?"_

_She takes a single step closer._

_"I've always known. Since my early childhood. I kept my memories, I knew all along." He stares at her face in silence, his nephew's gurgling and cooing echoing through the spiritist house. "And I always knew who you were. Ever since the first time I laid eyes on you. But you had to find out on your own. It's hard, Edward. Once you remember the past. I know that the urge to go back to your old ways is strong, almost unbearable. But you have Charles to consider now. You need to keep him safe, and most importantly... You need to let him be free, to follow his own path and fulfill his fate."_

_He frowns at her words._

_"What in the world do you mean by that?"_

_She smiles weakly. "Your nephew has important matters to settle... People to find. And you can't try to stop this from happening. Although I know you will want to, very badly. But you can't... I just hope you will remember this advice, when the time arrives... Or I'm afraid Charles will be the one to pay the price."_

_He scoffs at her enigmatic message._

_His sister just died. He has a newborn to protect._

_Life is already hard enough right now, the last thing he needs is a medium giving him stupid cryptic speeches._

_So he holds Charles closer, pulling some of the blanket's thick fabric over his tiny head to protect him from the rain and letting his eyes drink in the sight of the gorgeous Asian one last time._

_"Goodbye, Ching."_

_With those words, he opens the door and steps out in the pouring rain._

_Feeling as if he just left half of his heart inside that spiritist house._

* * *

**Somalia**

**Present Days**

Jack and Anne try to walk inside the office too, only to be stopped by their guide. The redhead glares at him, reaching for the knife strapped to her waist. The Somali pirate immediately points his gun at her and their leader looks at them over his shoulder as Jack puts an arm in front of the pissed off little brute.

"Darling, this is their territory and we must play by their rules. Charles will be fine."

The criminal lets his eyes linger on his loyal friends for a moment before nodding slightly at them.

He tries to ignore how hard his heart is pounding in his chest as he steps inside the office and their guide closes the heavy door behind him.

The first thing Charles notices about his old mentor is that he now has what looks like a faded bruise on his forehead.

So  _that's_  how he died? Shot in the head?

He tried many times to get his accomplices to tell him about how he died, but the two never did. Jack said they worried about what he would do if he knew.

But there must be more behind this story. His death just couldn't have been this simple...

_"Would you like to hear about how I killed your mentor?"_

_"The bigger they are, the harder they fall, it seems. And what a fall that was."_

The governor's words echo in his mind, that disgusting voice making him clench his jaw involuntarily.

_Just what the fuck did he do to Teach?_

The heavy silence could be cut with a knife.

Uncle and nephew stare at each other, their faces neutral... Until deep love and affection fill the giant's eyes and a soft smile tugs at his lips. Nostalgia is written all over his face and Charles remains frozen while he gets up from behind his desk, déjà vu washing over them both as Teach pulls him into a hug.

Just like their reunion three centuries ago, Charles keeps his arms at his sides, unable to return the gesture.

But tears do burn in his eyes.

This is the hug he longed for, during all those nights at the orphanage.

After Jack fell asleep and there was nothing but darkness.

_When he could cry._

Tears would stream down his face as he pulled the rough blanket over his head, sobbing silently and begging the heavens for a parent's hug.

How he longed to feel an adult's arms surrounding him safely, warmly.

Lovingly.

He waited for this, for so long.

The hug of someone who loved him, who wanted him, who wanted to take care of him.

And now that he's finally enveloped in this embrace, he's frozen, stone hard, his heart having closed a long time ago. Eleanor and Davina were the only ones who managed to squeeze their way inside it.

Though to be fair, Eleanor never really left it, even when he had no idea who he was, who  _she_  was.

She always kept her throne, ruling over his heart like the queen she is.

And now there's a small throne just beside hers, the one his little pirate princess occupies.

A heavy sigh leaves his uncle as he steps away from him, still keeping a hold of his shoulders and studying every inch of his face.

He can't stop smiling, eyes glinting with tears he won't let out.

"You've grown so much, my boy."

Charles scowls at him, finally finding his voice. "Hard feelings?"

Teach scoffs, shaking his head as if he just mentioned the most insignificant thing in the world.

"They vanished in the air as soon as you were placed in my arms, still bloody and so tiny, so fragile... When you smiled at me for the first time. All of it is behind us."

All Charles manages is a nod of his head, eyes locked with his uncle's, the hard scowl refusing to leave his face.

"And now you're finally home."

_My home is wherever Eleanor is._

It's hard not to speak the words out loud.

The brief comfort has long since faded, and it's actually a relief when his uncle lets go of his shoulders, turning around to walk back to his desk.

Charles keeps his eyes glued to his form while slowly walking over to the chair across from his. Once they're both seated, Teach laces his fingers together on the hard wooden surface between them.

"I will arrange for you to have your own, proper accommodations here in the underground headquarters. You can have whatever you want. Your ship won't stay in that port for too long, as soon as you want we can move her to the covered area where the Revenge stays, so she will be safe whenever it rains." Charles stares at his face in disbelief as he continues speaking. "I can promote you to sub chief in the next few weeks, but of course you'll have to prove your worth to the others as to avoid a mutiny. Maybe you could lead them out in the open sea the next time we target a cargo ship. I'm sure you miss doing that... Anne can go too, and Jack will probably make himself useful as well, helping us with strategies."

Charles lowers his eyes, thinking about everything he just said.

He just offered him what he's been longing for ever since the memories returned. Teach is offering it all to him on a silver platter.

And the only thing he can think about is how hard it will break Eleanor's heart if they stay away from her home and her family for more than a few months.

So he meets his uncle's eyes again, shaking his head briefly. "We're not staying. Davina is the only reason why I came here, I plan on taking her to a safer place."

Teach frowns at his words, leaning forward on his seat. "The child is perfectly safe here. Read gave up on the hunts to take care of her, and we have a secret bunker further inland, for emergencies. No one can find it unless they know exactly where to look. She will be just fine."

Charles doesn't back down. "My place is not here. Anne, Jack and I found our old home, we were settled in Nassau before traveling to this godforsaken place. And we will go back there."

His uncle shakes his head, sighing in disapproval. "Read has no wish to leave Somalia, and neither does Billy. They are Davina's parents, Charles, and it won't be easy to take her away from them."

"The last thing I want is to take Davina away from her family."

His tone is bitter. He has a hostile look on his face, and Teach knows why.

Regret fills his heart as he meets his nephew's eyes.

"You must know, I did the best I could. Leaving you on that orphanage's doorstep was the hardest, most painful thing I ever did, both in this life and in the previous. But I had no choice, Charles. There was no other way and I just wish it could-"

"I was tortured." He interrupts his uncle and the giant scowls, eyes filling with horror and grief. "Back when I was adopted. I was 8. He saw me as a punchbag, an ashtray where he could extinguish his damn cigarettes. This went on for a whole year."

_And it was all your fault._

He doesn't say the words. But they hang in the air anyway, and the atmosphere becomes even heavier.

"I had no other choice."

The pain is evident in his uncle's voice and eyes.

"You could have brought me here. Could have raised me. I could have found my sister sooner."

"Charles, I only came to Somalia seven years after leaving you at that orphanage. For as long as I kept you, I would be putting a target on your back. You must understand why I did that. And it haunted me. It really did."

He just can't look his uncle in the eyes, reliving that horrible year when he was adopted.

_God, he just wants Eleanor and the comfort of her arms right now._

Just to think that she's probably lying awake in bed at the safe house now, unable to relax and fall asleep due to his absence...

Charles wasn't expecting this reunion to be so hard and painful, but everything he tried so hard to keep buried in the depths of his soul, all the pain, all the heartache and hurtful thoughts are resurfacing.

His abandonment issues.

For a brief moment he feels like that helpless little orphan again, the one who waited for his only friend to fall asleep so he could hide under the covers and cry until sleep finally decided to claim him.

Sudden resentment for the man in front of him takes him over, and it makes him so angry.

Feeling how much heavier things are starting to get between them, Teach clears his throat, changing the subject.

"Nowadays... Are you happy?"

A glint instantly comes to Charles' eyes and he speaks without really thinking twice.

"Happier than I ever was before."

The criminal realizes his mistake when his uncle's face fills with suspicion.

"Is there any particular reason for that?"

He stays silent, avoiding his eyes, and Teach clenches his jaw. "Charles, please tell me you didn't find her again."

His heart starts to beat faster, his brain racing with the urge to keep his most precious treasure safe.

Should he be honest? Should he lie?

If he does, will it make his uncle's rage even worse when the truth eventually surfaces?

The answer is probably yes.

But he's not willing to find out what's going to happen to Eleanor if he chooses honesty either.

"If there's something this new life taught me, is that fate works in mysterious ways. I found a lot of people from my past. And yes, I did find her. But... Well, I'm alive, right?"

He forces himself to look scornful. It hurts.

But it works and his uncle seems satisfied by that answer, probably assuming he just tossed Eleanor aside for good once his memories came back.

"I'm glad you weren't stupid enough to let her pull your strings all over again. It makes me... proud to know that."

_Oh, if only you knew how she already got me even more wrapped around her finger nowadays..._

Wanting to take his uncle's attention away from this particular subject, his brain tries to come up with something to distract him.

But then his eyes drop to the map and various papers on the desk between them.

The giant follows his stare, heart filling with warmth when he notices the curious look on his face.

_Just like Davina's, the first time she came here and kept staring at the maps._

"I know we have a lot to settle between us. You are still hurting because of what I had to do, and I understand that perfectly. I know it will take some time for us to even try mending our relationship. I know you have no plans of staying here permanently. But I also know you, Charles. I can see you're curious about my empire, so for the good old days' sake... Maybe you will let me show you some of it?" Hostility flickers in his eyes, but Teach is not intimidated by it. "For the past 30 years all I wanted was to finally get the chance to spend some quality time with my nephew. And I have the feeling you always wanted a parent as well. So why don't we give this a try, at least? Is that too much to ask for?"

Charles looks down at the maps again, feeling that old instinct rising.

His current self just wants to turn the offer down and make up some excuse to go back to the safe house and his queen.

But the little orphan that still lives in the darkest corner of his soul, the boy he was in the past life, learning under this man's tutelage, this part of him is  _begging_  that he stays.

For some reason, that's the part he decides to listen to.

So even if it's brief and almost imperceptible, Charles finally allows himself to smile at his uncle again after 30 long years.

* * *

**Six hours later**

The little girl rubs her eyes sleepily as she walks down the stairs, her long dark hair a wild mess as her empty stomach protests. As soon as she gets to the kitchen to take care of that, Davina sees a blonde woman standing by the window, staring outside.

Her sleep-muddled brain doesn't process this properly and she assumes it's just her mother.

"Silly, why did you change your hair?" She asks and yawns, covering her mouth with her hand as the woman turns around with a soft smile on her face.

It takes her a second to understand. But when she does, an excited squeal leaves her lips and she runs to the blonde.

"Eleanor!"

The adult doesn't even grimace at the high pitched scream of her name, bending down just slightly to receive the little girl in her embrace more properly. Davina hugs her waist, her head pressed to the spot where her birthmark is located.

And it's such a surprise that she doesn't flinch away.

Eleanor thought the only two people in this world she felt comfortable with touching her birthmark were Charles and Max.

But it seems Davina just made it into that list as well.

"Hi, sweetheart. I was wondering when you'd decide to grace me with your presence."

The child pulls away, staring up at her face. "I missed you! You're even more pretty than before!"

"Prettier, baby." Mary corrects her, walking into the kitchen too. It makes Davina roll eyes, the exact same way Charles does.

And Eleanor's heart fills with love at the sight.

"Are you and my big brother still fighting?" The little girl asks, causing her to chuckle.

"A little. But we're so much better now."

She smiles up at her, and her brain finally comprehends just what's going on.

"If you're here... It means Charlie is too! And uncle Jack, auntie Anne, and the Ranger!"

Her big blue eyes shine with such joy, and it brings a sincere smile to Eleanor's face.

It's the first time this happens since they arrived in this place.

"Yes, they are. And you will see them soon. They're at the headquarters. But as soon as your brother is finished with Teach, he will come here. He's so eager to see you."

Davina smiles brightly at her words but it soon fades away, a scowl coming to her face.

Eleanor frowns in concern, bringing a hand to her soft cheek. "What is it, sweetie?"

She pouts slightly, looking up at Eleanor with those deep, sea blue eyes the blonde loves so much.

"Teach. I like him, but he's scary. I saw strange marks on his arm. They were really ugly."

_Children and their innocent sincerity._

Eleanor can't help but smirk at that, while Mary chokes on her coffee.

"For the love of God,  _never_  say that at the headquarters."

Davina frowns at her mother's words while Eleanor runs a hand through that familiar dark hair, the exact same color as Charles', though much softer.

"Teach won't hurt your brother. He likes him, you have nothing to worry about. Oh, and before I forget. I brought you a few gifts, and I also have pictures of the Ranger in my phone. Want to see them?"

Her eyes light up and she nods enthusiastically before taking off towards the stairs. Mary shakes her head, a loving smile playing on her lips as she shares a look with Eleanor.

"Will you be okay with her? She's got a wild personality."

The blonde shrugs, chuckling softly. "I'm used to that 'wild personality' very well by now, don't worry."

Mary gives her a conspiring look. "Oh, I know  _exactly_  what you mean."

Just as Eleanor turns around to follow Davina up the staircase, they hear the little girl let out a shriek. Alarm fills her chest and she feels her whole body tense, preparing herself to protect Charles' sister.

But soon the child's melodious laughter reaches her ears, along with a familiar voice.

"Where you think you're going so fast, missy?"

Soon, the owner of the voice appears in the kitchen too, with a giggling Davina thrown over his shoulder.

"Mary, will you-" He stops in his tracks, acknowledging their new guest. "You must be Eleanor."

She remains frozen as he walks closer, offering her a smile and extending his free hand. "Welcome to Somalia."

After a moment's hesitation she accepts his greeting, forcing a smile of her own while reaching to shake his hand.

_This is so surreal._

"I told you she was so beautiful, cousin Billy!" Davina says as he sets her on her feet again and he chuckles, nodding in agreement. It soon causes the child to scowl in warning. "But she already kisses my big brother, you can't look at her too long!"

Billy meets the newcomer's eyes again and even though she still can't believe this is actually happening, Eleanor can't help but laugh with him at the little girl's adorable logic.

Impatience gets the best of Davina and she rolls her eyes at the adults before tugging on Eleanor's jacket, pulling her towards the stairs.

"Quick, show me the pictures! I have a toy cutlass in my room, do you want to see it?"

Their voices fade away as they go up the staircase, and Billy watches it for a moment before stepping inside the kitchen again.

"Well, if Davina loves her this much, there's probably nothing wrong with this woman. You were right. She seems perfectly nice."

Mary raises her eyebrows, shrugging slightly. "Told you."

"Why in the world would Teach hold a grudge against her?"

His cousin falls silent, taking a sip of her coffee and lowering her eyes.

_Why, indeed?_

* * *

They're starting to think there's some sort competition going on underground, among the pirates.

To see who gives them the nastiest looks.

The trio is absolutely sure that the only reason they weren't attacked yet was because Teach gave the order that no one touched them.

The men are definitely not happy to have them here and Jack remains tense while Charles and Anne respond to the glares with murderous looks of their own, much to his annoyance.

It's been a while since they arrived, night is probably falling outside already, and it surprises him that their leader didn't rush to the safe house and Eleanor yet.

Only Charles saw Teach. After they watched him disappear inside that office, the pair began to explore the underground headquarters, always with an armed man or two following close behind them, watching their every move.

Their leader only met them here at this cafeteria of sorts half an hour ago. For once there is no guard glued to their side, and Jack knows he needs to use this opportunity to talk about something really important.

"Now that you had your little moment with your uncle... When do you plan on bringing her here?"

Charles gives him a dark look.

"I don't."

He sighs, already expecting this answer. Trying to ignore his headache, Jack makes sure there's not anyone close enough to hear their conversation before leaning forward on his seat.

"The longer this lasts, the worse his reaction will be... If he finds out we've been keeping her here, in his own domain, right under his nose... Time is of the essence, Charles, and you  _know_  that."

A scoff comes from the redhead beside him.

"Why do you even care about what happens to her?" She grumbles, and he knows it will be worse if he answers that question.

So he keeps his attention on their leader, the task of trying to talk some sense into that stubborn head of his already so familiar by now.

"You know I'm right. Do you have any idea how many cameras we saw while exploring this place? He has eyes everywhere, Charles. It's a damn miracle he didn't find out about Eleanor the very minute you two stepped foot on that beach. And we can't keep pushing our luck like this. So you better just take her to him already or find a way to smuggle her out of here and send her back to Nassau... Where she should have stayed all along if you ask me."

"You're the one who wanted to bring that pest here."

Both men look over at Anne as she practically spits the two last words out, and Jack shakes his head while Charles glares at her.

The trio's leader can see how eager Anne is for the moment when Teach finds out about who else they brought with them from the Bahamas. How she hopes something bad will happen to his queen.

_Little does she knows, he would die before letting anyone lay a finger on her._

* * *

His heart feels heavy as Charles makes his way to the safe house, night just beginning to fall. He's been awake for more than 24 hours and it's starting to take a toll on him.

He's stressed. Exhausted. Angry with himself for all the old emotions that resurfaced during his reunion with his old mentor.

All those years, all the hard work he did to bury these feelings in the depths of his soul. For nothing.

All he wants is to drink until he passes out. Or to get into a good fight. Or maybe both.

But things are different now, he's not a lonely pirate with a broken heart anymore, he doesn't need to go wreak havoc and destroy himself every single time he feels bad.

Now, he has a much better source of comfort, the one he longed for, three centuries ago.

And the mere thought of seeing Eleanor's face again, seeing his sister, is enough to bring a half smile to Charles' lips as he picks up his pace.

He doesn't even bother with knocking, simply walking inside the house.

The first thing he sees is Mary seated at the small living room, deep in conversation with...

Familiar blue eyes look up at him and he just stands there, watching as his old lover got up from the couch, Billy doing the same a second later.

_So Eleanor was right._

"There's something known as knocking." Mary tells him with a raised eyebrow and he scoffs, briefly looking over at the other man.

Searching for any signs that may indicate he has his memories from the previous life.

_Nothing._

He focuses his attention back on Mary.

"Where are they?"

A warm smile tugs at her lips and she grabs a hold of his arm, pulling him towards the staircase.

"Silent. You need to see this." She whispers as they make their way to the second floor, surrounded by darkness.

"Did Eleanor sleep?"

Mary shakes her head. "Nope. She couldn't. She was just too worried about you, I think."

His heart clenches as they walk through that corridor he saw before, and Charles immediately goes to the doorknob when they reach the room Mary prepared for his queen.

But his ex-lover stops him, pulling him towards Davina's door.

"She's not in there. Brace yourself, your heart is going to explode in three, two, one..."

He frowns at her words.

But then she's opening the door and his whole world stops when he sees what's going on in his sister's room.

His little princess has her back to him, sitting on the carpet floor, that dark long hair cascading down her back.

Eleanor is sitting right in front of her, with messy braids on her hair and a tired look on her face. She's smiling, despite the obvious exhaustion.

And they're playing a cardboard game.

The two most important people in his life are playing an innocent cardboard game in this room, perfectly safe.

Charles barely notices when Mary squeezes his shoulder and leaves. Only a second later those gorgeous blue-green eyes find his, a soft, relieved smile playing on Eleanor's lips as she gestures towards him with her head.

"Look who's here, little one."

Davina looks at the doorway over her shoulder and the game is immediately forgotten.

He never saw his sister smile so brightly before.

"Charlie!"

His heart swells with love as he bends down to catch her when she runs to him. Her little arms instantly close around his neck tightly and she buries her face in his hair, laughing, -  _or is she crying?_  - as he closes his eyes to savor that sweet scent of her child shampoo.

_Peaches and sandalwood._

He missed it so much.

He missed  _her_  so much.

Opening his eyes slowly, he sees Eleanor getting to her feet too, crossing her arms and approaching them with a barely noticeable smile on her face.

She just looks so exhausted...

But he probably does too.

His eyes stay locked with hers as she brings a hand to his bicep, squeezing gently before letting go and walking past them, out of the room.

Her fading footsteps fill his ears, then there's the sound of that door near the stairs opening and closing.

Sighing briefly, he sets Davina on her feet. Her eyes are still shining with pure joy and she giggles as he ruffles her hair.

"You okay, kid?"

She nods, wrapping her arms around his waist in a second hug, unable to contain herself. His hands come to her little shoulders as he smiles down at her briefly.

When she pulls away, he can see the relief in her eyes.

Because he didn't follow in their father's footsteps.

_He didn't abandon her._

"Thank you for keeping your promise." She says in a quiet voice and his heart breaks a little while he gets down on one knee to be at eye level with her.

All the trauma, all the pain his little sister had to go through, so young...

_If one day he happens to find their father, he'll kill that bastard with his own bare hands._

The happy glint comes back to those big blue eyes and Davina pulls the anchor necklace over her head before trying to return it to its owner's neck. Charles has to help her, but they succeed.

"I took care of it, see? It's still shiny."

He lets out a brief chuckle, nodding at her. "I see that. And I knew you'd take good care of it."

She smiles. He only notices now that she has lost a tooth, and it's freaking adorable.

And then, as if a dam was broken, it starts.

"Where's auntie Anne and uncle Jack? Did auntie Max come? They still make weird noises? Did you see the braids I made on Eleanor's hair? Can we go see the Ranger?"

He was starting to wonder when the torrent of questions would come. One of his eyebrows raise as Charles tries to keep up with them.

Now he understands why Mary has a strict rule that forbids his sister from drinking coffee.

"Slow down, kid. They will be here to see you in a few minutes, but auntie Max is still in LA. And yes, you should actually ask uncle Jack about the noises, I'm sure he'll love to explain."

He tries not to smirk at his own cruelty, eyes drinking in every tiny detail of his little princess' perfect face. How can such a sweet angel be related to  _him_?

"You managed to make Eleanor's hair even more beautiful." Again, Charles tries not to smirk. His queen's hair was a wild mess, but Davina doesn't need to know that. "And about my ship, patience. It all depends on how... things will play out tomorrow. I promise that as soon as I have the time, I'll take you to see her, alright?"

She rolls her eyes briefly but smiles anyway. "Okay Charlie."

"Still no chances of changing that nickname?" He asks with a soft grimace and Davina shakes her head.

"I like Charlie! You name is too hard."

He narrows his eyes at her but chuckles anyway, too happy about this reunion to care about the annoying little nickname.

As he gets back to his normal height, Mary makes her way over to the room again.

"Ok, little one. Come help me with dinner? Jack and Anne will be here soon, don't you want to greet them downstairs?"

Davina frowns softly, looking from her adoptive mother to Charles, and Mary is quick to speak again. "He'll be joining us real quick, but I'm sure your brother has some... stuff to discuss with Eleanor, so let's give them a minute, okay?"

The child meets Charles' eyes in silent question and he nods, ruffling her hair again. "She's right, kid. Eleanor and I will meet you downstairs in a short while."

Davina hesitates before nodding and hugging his waist again real quick.

He watches as Mary disappears down the staircase with his sister, the load of question's still leaving her lips. Soon, the corridor falls silent again and his eyes go to the guest room's door. Any hint of playfulness that might still be left from his time with Davina vanishes from his face as Charles makes his way over to it, turning the doorknob without knocking.

He sees her by the window, one of her arms wrapped around herself as her free hand held the small curtain slightly open so she could look outside.

She doesn't say anything and he approaches her carefully, not bothering with trying to keep silent, wanting her to know he was here, as to avoid scaring her again like he did months ago at the Barlow house.

Testing the waters, he brings his hands to her shoulders.

And only when she doesn't flinch away, Charles hugs her waist from behind, reveling in the comfort of her soft, warm body against his again.

A sigh of satisfaction leaves her lips and she leans back against him, silence stretching as they stare at the marine research center through the small crack in the curtains.

"How did it go?" Eleanor asks after a while and he hesitates, not quite willing to share those old feelings with anyone.

Especially not with her.

It would make him look weak, helpless. And he doesn't want her to see him this way.

So he shrugs, dropping a kiss to her exposed shoulder.

"Uneventful."

Of course, she scoffs, shaking her head.

"I don't believe you for a second. But whatever it is you're keeping from me, I don't care... as long as it's nothing that concerns me. So tell me..." She turns around in his embrace, locking her eyes with his. "Is it?"

He shakes his head. "I did mention you. He asked if I found you again. I said I did. But I made it sound as if I tossed you aside. He has no idea you're here... You're safe."

Relief flickers in her eyes but she pushes him away, a bit too roughly, before making her way over to the bed and sitting down, shaking her head briefly. "I don't want to be protected."

He sees the way she scowls at her own words, shuddering as if they reminded her of something. It makes no sense to him though, and his eyes stay locked to her form as he carefully approaches the bed too, not wanting her to snap at him.

Normally, it's already hard to deal with her.

But when she's exhausted like this...

"For how long?" Her tired voice reaches his ears and she meets his eyes again. "How long until he finds out I'm hiding in here, how long until he comes to this house... And even if he doesn't, what happens next? What happens when time starts to pass, will you keep me a secret forever? Is that even possible?"

He rolls his eyes, finally sitting down by her side on the mattress. "Why do you always have to do this? You always worry ahead of time-"

"I always plan ahead of time. It's a nice habit to have, you know."

Slowly, he reaches down to unzip her boots, removing them and massaging her tense feet and ankles for a brief moment before meeting her eyes again and wordlessly pulling her down to the mattress, both of them laying on their sides and facing each other.

For a second, he's sure she'll protest and push him away again.

But her hand finds the anchor pendant and her tired eyes drop to it.

He sees the little smile that tugs at her lips for the briefest moment. The necklace probably makes her remember the time they shared together before the memories came back.

When everything was so much easier and safer.

"I missed this." She speaks quietly, and he sees that familiar glint in her eyes as she looks at his face again, wordlessly tugging on the string of the necklace like she used to do all the time, all those months ago.

And as always, of course he obeys her silent demand.

Their lips crash together and he immediately pulls her closer, earning one of those soft moans he  _lives_  for when one of his hands unceremoniously moves to squeeze her ass.

Her protests from earlier seem to have been tossed out the window as she grasps at his hair, silently begging him for more, her brain and rational thoughts not catching up with the desire just yet.

Charles brings his hand behind her right knee, pulling her leg over his hip as she tried to move even closer.

Since they're both exhausted and willing to enjoy each other during this stolen moment, things are surprisingly calm, tranquil, like waves before they break.

Serenity reigns even as his tongue caresses hers, his fingers gently undoing the braids Davina had made before he runs them through her soft hair, untangling each one of the braids, giving each one of them his full attention until her hair is completely loose again.

To Eleanor, it feels as if he's savoring her, and it makes her heart beat faster while she waits to see what he'll do next, hoping he'll go back to his normal, more aggressive style.

Because while she loves this, she worries the soft and gentle caresses will soon lull her exhausted body to sleep.

And she wants to enjoy every single minute they have together before the storm that lurks on the horizon arrives. It's taunting her, coming slowly like a Spanish fleet, and the comparison sends a shudder down her spine.

But Charles unknowingly chases those scary thoughts away, his hand leaving her hair and moving under her blouse before traveling up her back. His clever fingers expertly unclasp her bra, as always, and she finally breaks their kiss to try and catch her breath.

His lips immediately attack her neck, his hand still underneath the blouse, moving to give her right breast some attention as he kissed his way down to her collarbone and lower.

Her mouth parts and she inhales sharply when he undoes the first button on the front of her blouse with his own teeth.

This always sets her blood on fire, and the bastard knows it.

She closes her eyes briefly to enjoy the sensations, breathing becoming a bit ragged and nails pressing into his back through the shirt as he rolls his hips into hers teasingly, hand still fondling her breast and lips still attacking her flushed skin.

And for some reason, Eleanor's brain chooses this moment to slip back into its normal, rational version.

Voices trail from downstairs and she brings her hands to his hair.

"They're all waiting for us."

He lets out a barely noticeable groan of annoyance, lips returning to her neck as he speaks against her skin.

"We'll just have to be quick."

Eleanor scoffs at that, shaking her head briefly. "You're  _never_  quick."

Thank God. She still remember how her ex-husband couldn't last more than five minutes to save his life.

The wicked glint in his eyes when he looks at her face almost makes her give in to the lust again and forget about everything else.

"You're complaining?"

She narrows her eyes at him, unable to fight away the smirk tugging at her lips.

"Hell, no."

For some reason, her gaze drops to his birthmark for a brief moment and she swallows hard before leaning forward to trace it with her tongue, teasingly, knowing how this is always enough to make him crazy.

And of course, he presses his hips to hers again then covers her body with his, staring right into her eyes before moving to bite her earlobe softly.

His hoarse voice in her ear makes her arch her back involuntarily, seeking more contact. "One of these days, I'm gonna put a rope around your neck too."

It sounds like such a dark promise and she can't help but gasp, hoping he didn't notice.

Charles was just teasing. Expecting her to give him one of those murderous glares and scoff at his words.

But to his utter surprise and  _delight_ , she shivers beneath him, her breath catching as her eyes widen briefly, glinting with curiosity and excitement.

And although she's quick to hide this immediate reaction, he's already smirking down at her flushed face.

"And you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

That voice. Somehow even more hoarse than usual. She can see her reaction has pleased him immensely.

And the surprising truth is that yes, she'd like that.

_Maybe she could start giving it some thought..._

Not one to let him win, Eleanor closes the inches between them, wanting to wipe that smug smirk off his face and reveling in the low growl that sounds at the back of his throat when she moves her hands down his stomach, stroking him through his jeans.

The fingers of her free hand work at undoing his button and zipper as Charles smirks at her again, knowing her brain lost the battle against the desire.

Short, desperate groans leave their lips as they try to undress each other from the waist down, rushed hands moving in a frenzy.

Leather jacket, dark green shirt and white blouse are forgotten, they're just too hungry for each other,  _needing_  to be joined again, to feel-

Through the fog of the desire, Eleanor hears those familiar little footsteps making their way upstairs.

Her lust-filled eyes regain their focus and she pushes Charles away, working on buttoning her blouse again as Davina's voice reaches their ears.

They manage to rearrange their clothes just in time, the door opening to reveal that little ball of energy Eleanor has grown to love.

She's sure her cheeks are still flushed, that ache between her legs still lingering as Davina frowns adorably at them.

"What are you doing?"

Charles just sighs briefly, his hair a wild mess while Eleanor speaks without a moment's hesitation, innocent smile still in place. "We were just talking a little bit, sweetie."

Davina narrows her eyes at her and for a moment she worries about what will come out of the child's mouth, but then...

"Your hair is all messy, silly! Now I'm gonna have to braid it all over again."

The blonde can't help but laugh at her sweet innocence.

"Did something happen, kid?" Charles finally speaks and she detects the briefest hint of annoyance in his tone, though the look he's giving his sister is nowhere near hostile.

"Mama said dinner is ready. She told me to knock first, but I forgot."

Eleanor never thought she would see this man  _chuckle_  at someone who just interrupted them.

But still, he does, nodding at his sister.

"We'll be there in a minute. Go tell Mary."

Davina smiles brightly at him and takes off towards the staircase, not even bothering with closing the door again.

Eleanor can't contain the brief laugh that leaves her lips as she meets her criminal's eyes.

"Now that's something I really didn't miss." Charles says before sighing heavily.

And now that their moment has been broken she notices something about his behavior.

There's something bothering him a lot.

And he's keeping it from her.

Her suspicious are only confirmed when he turns his back to her, sitting on the edge of the bed and rubbing his face with both hands, tension evident in every muscle of his body.

After stalling for a moment, Eleanor moves closer, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind and resting her chin on his firm shoulder.

"I understand we are still in the process of getting used to this... To sharing, trusting." She begins, lips close to his ears. He brings a hand to hers, tangling their fingers together absentmindedly while staring down at his lap. "But there's something troubling you, and I want to know  _exactly_  what it is. I know this reunion was probably hard on you, and there's no need for you to talk about it with me if that's not what you want. But Charles, there's something going on, and for you to be this disturbed, I know it must be something that concerns me. So share it with me. I have the right to know."

A frown comes to his face. Usually by now he expected her to be yelling and throwing stuff at him, not talking softly in his ear with her arms around his waist.

_She's trying._

He knows it's an effort she's making, trying to be more reasonable, for both their sakes.

She's scared of seeing their relationship fail again.

Charles knows that the least he can do is recognize her efforts and cooperate too.

So he grabs her hands, removing them from around his waist and turning around to face her.

"Jack brought my attention to a very important matter, after I left my uncle's office."

Hostility flickers in her eyes at the mention of Teach and she raises her chin, scowling softly as he continued.

"He has eyes everywhere, Eleanor. It's only a matter of time before he discovers you here. And the longer this lasts, the worse his anger will be. We have two options. I can arrange safe passage so you can go back home and wait for me there. I don't know how, but I'll do it, if that's what you want-"

She's immediately shaking her head, interrupting his speech with four words that make him frown in disbelief.

"I'm not leaving you."

Charles stays silent and she sighs, lowering her eyes. "Look, we got this far. I'm not going to cower and run away from his empire like some scared little princess. It may be the smartest thing to do, but I just can't bring myself to follow through with it. And I just... I have a bad feeling. About you."

_Did her voice break for a moment there?_

His eyes remain glued to her face as she looks up again, shaking her head briefly. "I just can't shake this feeling, that something bad will happen to you. And well, the last time I had a... 'premonition', it was a true warning. Had I given it the proper attention, maybe I would have gotten to keep my life. I learned my lesson. I won't ignore this sort of stuff anymore, if there's a threat coming your way I will remain by your side and we'll face it, together."

He's still frowning in silent disbelief. But her words bring a warm feeling to his chest.

"So unless you knock me out, tie me down, lock me in a box and ship me back to Nassau, I will stay here."

_By your side, where I belong._

Charles studies her face for a moment before sighing heavily, giving her a brief nod.

She made her decision and he knows very well that there's nothing he can do or say to dissuade her.

"We need to be quick then. If he finds out about your presence here on his own, he will feel even more betrayed. This is his territory. We're in the lion's den, as Jack said. He thinks we need to choose... Not submission, but docility."

She nods, probably agreeing with what Jack said, but still clenching her jaw at the thought of lowering her head to Teach.

But she's smart, and she knows it's the best thing to do.

Things will be hard enough already without her bossy, hard nature showing.

"He may attack you with words." Charles speaks, brushing her hair behind her ear and staring into her eyes. "But I promise he won't lay a finger on you. He'd have to kill me first."

For some reason, his words make her shiver.

Not in the good way.

Eleanor clenches her jaw again, eyes cold as she straightens up. Exhaustion is written all over her face and yet she still manages to put on a determined, brave look.

"Very well then. Once dawn comes... Let's go confront your uncle."


	12. Deal With the Devil

Just as Charles and Eleanor make their way down the stairs, the front door opens and their shipmates walk in, taking a look around. Davina's excited squeal fills their ears as she rushes out of the kitchen, straight at the newly arrived couple.

"Uncle Jack, auntie Anne!"

Anne is caught off guard as the little ball of energy hugs her waist, unsure how to react and looking at Charles' face in a silent request for help. He just shrugs at her, heading to the kitchen to talk to Mary while Eleanor stays behind to watch the scene.

Jack is more receptive when Davina lets go of the redhead to hug him too. He laughs down at her, returning the gesture and actually scooping her up in his arms.

"Hi Davy. I see the tooth fairy has visited you recently."

She wrinkles her nose adorably, shaking her head at him. "She doesn't exist, silly!"

He fakes confusion, and Eleanor notices that Anne can't contain her soft smile while watching him interact with a child. Her eyebrows raise at this, and she wonders if the little brute is thinking about what it would be like for them to have their own baby.

The scary thought has crossed her own mind once or twice after they returned to Nassau, strangely, but she was quick to push it away.

Charles certainly didn't even come close to thinking about it, so she shouldn't either.

Jack frowns dramatically at the child in his arms. "What are you talking about? She's real, I saw her when I was your age."

Eleanor chuckles while Anne rolls her eyes. She has to hand it to Jack, he's a natural at this.

Davina giggles while he sets her back on her feet. "You were dreaming, uncle Jack. You're too old to believe in the tooth fairy! You're lucky I'm showing you the truth."

The little girl takes off running to go join her big brother and adoptive mother in the kitchen. Jack feigns a hurt look, putting a hand over his heart and looking from Anne's face to Eleanor's.

"Well, my heart is in pieces after this revelation."

Anne scoffs, a smirk refusing to leave her lips as she punches his shoulder lightly.

Just then Billy comes into the house too, looking around to make sure Davina wouldn't see the rifle hanging from his shoulder. Seeing the coast was clear, he gives Anne and Jack a quick nod of greeting before hurrying up the stairs to hide the weapon in his room.

"So fucking weird." Anne mumbles and her partner nods in agreement. "Think he'll ever recover his memories?"

Jack shrugs, still watching the staircase. "Who knows. He might need a little push. But I think we already have enough drama in our hands for now."

Anne sighs at his words, agreeing completely while they approached Eleanor.

"Did he talk to you about our options?" Jack asks in a hushed tone and she nods.

"He did. And I'm staying."

The ghost of a smile comes to his lips. It seems he approved her decision.

Anne meets her eyes, disbelief written all over her face. "Thought you'd just leave him behind at the first sign of danger, cunt."

She raises her chin, giving her a cold look. "I'm not one to cower. If I had any plans of backing down, I would have never left Nassau in the first place."

The redhead studies her face for a moment before scoffing and walking away to join the others in the kitchen.

Jack watches her go, waiting until she was out of their sight to meet Eleanor's eyes and smile at her. "You keep surprising me. Each and every proof you show, about where your loyalties lay now..."

"I have a bad feeling, Jack."

He frowns at her words, glancing at the kitchen's door before stepping closer and nodding at her to continue.

"I fear for his safety. For mine as well, of course, but... I just feel as if something really bad will happen to him, soon. I can't ignore this, it's making me crazy."

He considers what she just said for a moment, lowering his eyes briefly. "He can take care of himself, Eleanor. It will be fine. There's nothing here that could possibly threaten his safety, you have nothing to fear. You're just under a lot of stress, it is perfectly natural for you to feel like this."

She sighs heavily and wraps her arms around herself.

"I just don't want to see Charles hurt-"

" _Darling_." He frowns and she raises an eyebrow. Now that Anne is not around, the endearment  _finally_  escaped. Against his will, probably, because he chooses to act as if it didn't even happen. "While your concern for him is highly appreciated, you and I both know how he is. If he notices that there's something disturbing you, all his attention will travel to this particular matter. And he really needs to focus on other stuff right now."

She sighs, knowing he's right. With a nod of her head, she returns Jack's smile as he pats her shoulder reassuringly.

But as hard as she tries to lock those weird feelings away, they continue to haunt her as she and Jack make their way to the kitchen.

* * *

_If three centuries ago someone tried to tell Eleanor that one day she would be at a dinner table with Charles Vane, Jack Rackham, Anne Bonny, Billy Bones, Charles' ex-lover and his little sister..._

As this thought crosses her mind she can't help but frown, realizing again just how surreal things are nowadays.

_When exactly did her life change in such a drastic way?_

She barely pays attention to the conversation, only smiling briefly at Davina's antics from times to times. If she was already exhausted before, now that she finally ate it feels as if all her energy has been drained.

Eleanor can't contain herself, blinking heavily while laying her head on Charles' shoulder, the conversation sounding more and more distant. She barely feels the way he lets his thumb caress her leg under the table.

It seems she actually dozes off on his shoulder for a short while because the next thing she registers is Jack's voice, the previous conversation finished by now.

"...her to bed, Charles. She's exhausted, look at her."

That heavy hand is still resting on her leg and she wakes up fully when Charles tries to move so he could lift her in his arms.

"I can walk." She grumbles at him, somehow managing to smile at Davina before thanking Mary for the food and walking to the stairs. Of course Charles is quick to follow her, almost needing to help her up the stairs. The 100th yawn of the evening escapes Eleanor's lips when they reach the guest room and all she wants is to get under the covers and sleep for hours in her pirate's arms.

But fate seems to have other plans and the pair pauses when a small, hesitant voice reaches their ears.

"Charlie?"

They look in the direction of the staircase, noticing Davina has followed them. The little girl looks almost nervous, maybe even a little bit shy as she looks up at them, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt.

"You need something, kid?"

She nods instantly. "Every night, Mama helps me choose my pajamas, she combs my hair and reads me a story. But tonight I don't want her, I want you."

A wave of panic does rise in his chest.

But how could he ever deny this little girl anything, when she gives him those puppy eyes?

How could he deny his sister the comfort of being tucked into bed by a loved one, especially considering how much he longed for this during all those cold, lonely nights at the orphanage?

Davina deserves better.

And he'll never let her feel abandoned again.

Eleanor squeezes his shoulder, forcing a smile. "Go on. I'll go lay down."

He watches her disappear behind the door, his eyes lingering on it as Davina grabs his hand and begins to guide him to her room.

* * *

She's asleep practically as soon as her head hits the pillow.

Having grown so used to the comfort of Charles' arms holding her safely, Eleanor feels uncomfortable in the far too empty bed, scowling even in her slumber.

And as always, the nightmares enjoy the opportunity, taking advantage of the absence of her dream catcher to come disturb her.

_She sees him standing there, that damn rope around his neck._

_But the familiar scenario plays a lot differently this time._

_There's a strong presence looming right beside her and she almost runs when her eyes settle on Teach._

_He has blood all over his body, his clothes torn, and he's soaking wet, water mixing with the red substance and dripping to the floor._

_Most of his face is disfigured to a point she barely recognizes him. The sight is so macabre that she opens her mouth to scream but no sound comes out._

_Panic tries to take her over when the giant lunges towards her with his cold eyes._

_But then there's a flash of movement and she notices Charles' hair, his clothes as he comes crashing hard against his uncle, causing him to fall to the ground._

_Any relief she might have felt is short lived. Because when her criminal turns around to face her, his skin looks hauntingly pale._

_His eyes are lifeless._

_He's **dead**._

A choked gasp leaves Eleanor's lips when she wakes up suddenly, quickly realizing it was thanks to Charles closing the door of the guest room.

Her eyes drink in what she can see of his face in the dark. His skin has that perfect tan instead of the scary paleness, and his eyes still have that beautiful,  _alive_  glint to them.

Sighing in relief briefly so he wouldn't notice, she holds the blanket to her chest, eyes following his every move as she savors the sight of his exposed skin when he undresses.

But as perfect as the sight is, she protests when he tries to lay down by her side.

"You are  _not_  sleeping naked tonight."

He raises an eyebrow in question. "You never complained about it."

"It's not that." She pushes herself up on her elbows, frowning at him. "Your sister may come in."

He just raises an eyebrow and she rolls her eyes.

"God, you know nothing about children, do you?"

"And you do?"

Eleanor gets to her feet, heading to the bag she brought with her and pulling out the sweatpants she packed especially for this. He probably didn't even notice they were gone from his shelf.

"Like you, I raised myself. But I also sort of raised Abigail. Trust me. I say there's 99% of chance Davina will crawl into our bed later in the night."

Charles scoffs at her but accepts the sweatpants anyway, regretfully pulling them on while watching as she got under the covers again.

An unspoken question hangs in the air when he lays down by her side and gathers her in his arms.

_Will they pick up where they left off, now that everyone else is asleep?_

Eleanor seems to want to, trailing kisses over his birthmark.

But a yawn interrupts the action and she snuggles closer.

"I'll just rest my eyes for a short while."

He smiles at the sound of her sleepy voice, knowing very well that every time she says this, she sleeps like a stone.

With a kiss to her forehead, he holds her close. And in a matter of seconds she's breathing softly in his arms.

It feels as if Charles stays asleep for only a few seconds when the door of the guest room opens and closes, and he's half-awake as little footsteps make their way over to the bed.

He's not sure if he's dreaming or not when his sister crawls into their bed and somehow finds a way to squeeze herself between him and Eleanor. She's asleep before he can say anything, the scent of peaches and sandalwood mixing with the addictive honey, sunflowers and strawberry of his queen's hair.

For a moment he's frozen, staring at their peaceful faces.

And suddenly there's a huge wave of love crashing over him, love he never felt before, and the intensity of this feeling scares him to death.

Tears threaten to come to his eyes while he stares at his sweet little Davina, hair identical to his own. She's holding her Dolphin plushie to her chest, so innocent...

What in the world did he ever do to deserve this  _angel_? So pure, so good...

_So perfect._

She's like a rare pearl, the only thing that's 100% good in both his and Eleanor's lives. And Charles has no idea how this happened, how they could be granted this  _blessing_  after everything they did.

Once again, that scary image flashes in his mind, the little baby... He barely acknowledges it.

Because in the next second, he's falling asleep. Holding his whole world in his arms.

And it's the  _best damn thing_  he ever felt.

* * *

Two oceans away, a shady figure makes his way inside the hospital.

It's 10 A.M. in LA and he does his best not to be recognized as the troublemaker he's been getting known as.

It wasn't always this way. Initially, he was rich. Born into a rich family, spending this whole life as a playboy who did nothing but have fun in the most wild way.

Something started to change inside his very soul when his family was invited to a party to celebrate Richard Guthrie's daughter's 17th birthday.

He found it strange, as far as he knew that man never gave a damn about his daughter's birthday, he often heard about how Eleanor always spent this occasion with some black security man of the mansion and his family, as odd as that was.

But as soon as they made it to the mansion, he understood. The party was filled with rich, single, older men.

Richard was just trying to find a good husband for his daughter, in the most old-fashioned behavior he had ever seen up to that moment. He waited until she was of age to finally start throwing her parties.

She looked so devastated in that extravagant dress.

As if she felt hope, thinking her father was finally starting to like her better, only to realize his true intentions once she saw who the guests were.

She looked lost, sad, even scared. All the expensive decorations and classy music probably couldn't even compare to the simple, yet full of love parties she had with that other family.

In fact, she only smiled when she made her way to a certain security man's side.

Strangely,  _that man_  would look at her like a father.  _He_  would comfort her and act all protective instead of showing her off proudly like Richard was doing, as if she was a piece of meat he had to sell.

Of course, he didn't give a damn about that teenage girl's misfortune and suffering, he never cared about anyone else's well being, only his, but as soon as he set eyes on that beauty...

She made him so fucking angry, and back then he had no idea why.

But he wanted her. He wanted her with each eye roll she gave her father. With each sway of her hip when she hurried to the security man's side. With each fiery look that came to her face whenever she refused to dance with the rich gentlemen.

He had never seen a girl like her before, and in that moment he wanted her to himself.

He didn't even bother talking to her father. Instead, he decided to stalk her.

It was sweet heaven to see the veiled fear in her eyes.

He wanted more of that, so much more.

Every refusal only spurred him on, and then there was that fateful night.

He saw her leaving the mansion grounds, there was a party going on, surely just another one of Richard's attempts to marry her off to someone.

She was  _pissed_ , throwing a glass to the ground and almost tripping in her high heels from times to times.

He could see she was tipsy, that dress complimenting her gorgeous body perfectly, taunting him and luring him on as she made her way through the empty, dark streets, completely alone and defenseless.

A perfect target.

Or so he thought.

Because just as he was about to take her to his car, already giddy with the knowledge he would finally get what he wanted after six years of watching this girl, there was a hard body crashing against his and pushing him to the ground, away from his prey.

Familiar dark, long hair, familiar eyes blue as the Caribbean Sea, a cold, brutal look on that man's face, as if he was defending his most important possession.

After that idiot knocked him out that night, weird shit started to happen.

Strange dreams. His birthmark started to hurt from times to times.

It felt as if someone was severing his head and he had no idea how, but he  _knew_  how that felt.

His mind was always disturbed to say the least, so he didn't care that he was probably going crazy.

He left his family's mansion.

A friend took him in, he started to live in the shadiest parts of L.A., soon entering a life of crime... Then killing his friend in a fit of rage and not feeling the slightest bit of remorse.

And that night when he saw Eleanor Guthrie again at the Demeter, when that same man appeared at her side to defend her all over again, he  _knew_  these two did something to him.

He just  _knew_  he had a score to settle with them, for something far more serious than the stupid events from this life.

_This life?_

His head throbbed when he made his way out of the nightclub that night and he  _laughed_ , because he knew he was close to the truth.

And later, when he was drowning in alcohol in the streets, it all crashed over him like a big, violent wave.

_All those memories._

He started to yell about that little blonde witch, for everyone to hear.

When he was tortured by the Rogers brothers, he refused to tell them what they wished to know, pretending not to have the memories back, pretending he only knew Eleanor as the sole heir to the Trading Company and nothing else.

But he saw in this man, this Woodes, something that caught his attention. On the surface, he was the perfect image of a fine gentleman, but...

There was something buried deep inside him, something he recognized, a  _madness_  he recognized. It was barely in control, he knew it was only a matter of time before Woodes lost the reins of the situation and that hidden nature was unleashed.

This man had the potential to make those two idiots suffer, the means to do so.

That's why he gave him Charles' name. Knowing that with him out of the way, it would be much easier to get to Eleanor. He wasn't stupid, he wouldn't try to make a move against her while that man was free, he knew how that ended for him the first time.

But things didn't quite go as he planned and the next thing he knew, the lovers were gone from L.A., and Woodes was in a coma.

His memories were taking a toll on him, his mind getting even more disturbed, so he lost himself in drugs and alcohol for months.

_And then Sarah found him..._

Coming back to the present, he finally stops in front of a door.

The sight he's greeted with when he steps foot inside the room makes him sneer in contempt.

That respectable, rich man of the law who tortured him months ago, the one who acted as if he was above even God, was now nothing but a pitiful figure lying in bed, his skin pale, a book in his hands and dark bags under his haunted eyes.

An ugly scar on his left cheek topped it all off and his eyes filled with horror the instant he looked up from his book -  _Journey Around the World or some stupid shit like that_  - and saw who his visitor was.

"Ah, so now that you're the one in a vulnerable position you think I came seeking revenge?"

The patient actually scoffs, though weakly, and Ned closes the door behind him, a grin plastered to his face. "Well, you're correct. That's exactly what I want. Not on you and your stupid brother, however."

Those haunted eyes stay glued to him as he pulls a chair closer to the bed and sits down.

"I've heard you've been saying strange shit since you woke up. Something about an ancient time, and pirates? You also say you knew your ex-fiancée before, in another life, is that right? Tell me more."

Woodes looks at him in disbelief. It seems he's the first that asks him to speak more. And that's exactly what he planned. He knew he had to gain the other's man confidence in order for this to work, and the whole past lives thing was the only way he found to do so.

And it seems the arrogant bastard is so desperate to be heard and taken seriously, that he immediately speaks.

He tells him everything. About all his achievements, a petty glint in his eyes.

And oh, what delight Ned feels when he speaks about Charles' fate.

He imagines the scene in his head, unable to contain his satisfied smirk.

So Vane did all that to defend that little blonde witch, only to meet his demise thanks to her?

_It's sweet music to his ears._

And by the time Woodes is finished, he fakes a somewhat sympathetic look.

"So your wife was taken from you suddenly, and when you found her again, that criminal kidnapped her."

The patient lowers his eyes. No doubt ashamed that he failed to keep his own wife safe "twice".

In truth, Ned knows what happened. Eleanor wasn't kidnapped.

He saw her with Charles, he saw how they acted, and he knows they have their memories back too, he could see it in their eyes that night at the Demeter. Somehow she managed to lure him to her side again, even after she killed him. He's not sure how, but the one thing he knows is that she left with him on her own free will.

But of course, saying that wouldn't help him.

He needs to say everything Woodes wants to hear, he knows that's the best way to win the trust and sympathy of men like him.

"Let me tell you something." He says, leaning forward on his chair and getting into liar mode. "Before you got to that island, I arrived... And I'm afraid I was a threat to your Eleanor's safety back then, but I regret that  _so_  deeply. That man, Charles, he killed me for that. Severed my head. See?"

Woodes scowls as he shows him the faded, ugly bruise-like mark around his neck.

"And I want him to pay for that. You and I both know where they went, but I must say, I don't have the means to get to that island. But you do. And with all due respect, you won't succeed alone. That man, he won't go down too easily. You need my help. I'm also the only one who knows you're speaking the truth, the only one who doesn't think you've gone insane... So what do you say? Think we can try a partnership here? We both want the same thing-"

"You won't lay a finger on my wife." The patient interrupts his words, eyes filled with warning.

Ned just wants to laugh at how pathetic that is.

"If that's your condition, you have my word. I just want to hurt my murderer, that's all. As for Eleanor, I'll only help you get her back to safety."

"I don't trust you." Woodes says immediately, but he sees it in his eyes.

He won't turn him down.

"However, I can see you want to harm that savage beast just as much as I do. And given my... current state, should a fight between me and that piece of filth occur, I'm not certain whether I will be able to inflict as much damage as I previously could or not. I just might need help. And I need to go after them as soon as possible, Eleanor is suffering. I can't wait until I recover enough to fight." He finally sets the book aside, straightening up. "So I see no other way out, other than accepting your assistance. But know this... If you try anything, if I even  _think_  you want to hurt my wife, I will not hesitate to shoot you in the head."

_Pathetic._

Ned fights against the strong urge to scoff in contempt.

Instead, he forces a smile and nods, extending his hand. "We have a deal. Soon, we'll have our revenge and you'll have your wife back in your arms, where she belongs. Safe and sound. You have my word, friend."

For a moment, Woodes just stares at his hand, a disgusted look on his face.

Ned's jaw clenches and he's just about to snap. But then the patient raises his arm, his movements still somewhat weak, though he's obviously trying to mask it.

A smirk plays on Ned's lips as they seal their arrangement with a handshake.

* * *

The sound of waves crashing outside fills his ears, sunlight filtering in through the windows.

Every morning when he wakes up, Charles' first instinct is to hold his queen closer, savoring the scent of her hair...

This time, there's something different.

His eyes snap open and the first thing he sees is a dolphin plushie.

_So it wasn't a dream._

Davina is still sound asleep, her head tucked into his neck, one little hand grasping at his hair while she held her dolphin to her chest with her free arm.

In her sleep, the little girl looks even more like an innocent angel.

He looks away from what he could see of her face, immediately meeting a pair of gorgeous, blue-green eyes.

"Told you so."

The usual victorious smirk that always accompanies those three words is nowhere to be seen.

Instead, Eleanor looks somewhat nervous, and he knows it's not just because of what will come today.

"Does this feel incredibly weird for you too? In... a very good way?" Her voice is hesitant, a frown coming to her face.

He notices she has her arms around Davina too, while he holds both of them. Again, his heart fills with the most pure love and he lets his eyes linger on his sister again before meeting Eleanor's.

A nod of his head is all the answer she gets and she looks down at Davina, hesitating before dropping a kiss to the top of her head.

A brief smile plays on her lips, and Charles is pretty certain he sees her eyes glint with unshed tears for a second.

There's a knock on their door and Mary opens it slowly, probably making sure they were decent before stepping inside the room.

Surprise flickers in her eyes, a soft smile tugging at her lips.

"Well, looks like I've been replaced. Forget the fact that I've been raising her for the past three years, I stand no chance when  _Charlie_  is around."

The criminal rolls his eyes and Mary chuckles, shaking her head. "Just wanted to let you two know that Billy will be leaving for the headquarters in an hour, thought you'd want to go with him."

Eleanor tries to ignore the shudder that goes down her spine, smile vanishing at those words. But still, she nods, unconsciously tightening her arms around the little girl, who stirs slightly.

Mary smiles at her, taking one last look at the unlikely scene before making her way to the door. "Since you two got Davina and Jack offered to take care of breakfast, I'll enjoy the rare peace and go take a long bath. Oh, and good morning, my favorite pair of nannies."

They can hear the humor in her voice.

The look they share as Davina starts to wake up is filled with everything they will probably never be able to put into words.

* * *

"Aren't you supposed to flip them in the air?" Anne asks with partially veiled amusement in her eyes, seated at the kitchen table.

Jack looks at her over his shoulder with a smirk on his face before focusing back on the pancakes.

"Only when someone under the age of ten is present."

As if on cue, Davina rushes inside the kitchen, not needing a drop of coffee to be already hyper. A flow of questions and "Uncle Jack's" leave her lips and this time Anne is a little more receptive when she runs over to the chair and throws her arms around her neck in a quick hug.

The redhead raises an eyebrow at Jack when he looks at her again, unable to contain her smirk.

He rolls his eyes but flips a pancake in the air, fumbling and almost letting it drop to the floor. But it's already enough to make Davina laugh in excitement.

It even makes Anne smile brightly and he savors the rare sight, thinking once again how unfair it is that she hides that beautiful, perfect smile from the world.

But the light atmosphere is broken when Charles and Eleanor walk inside the kitchen.

All of them, except for Davina, know what will come today, the danger that will come. And while Anne seems eager for it, even satisfied, Jack is nervous as hell.

He doesn't want Eleanor to be killed or even hurt. His friend waited for this for such a long time, he waited  _centuries_  to have this woman by his side like this, to have her loyalty. To have her in his arms every night and morning. It just wouldn't be fair if she was taken from him  _now_ , of all times.

It would kill him on the inside.

He really does  _not_  want to know what Charles would do. No doubt, he would sink so much deeper than he ever did, overtaken by darkness. Probably, not even Davina would be able to bring him back.

And truth be told, Jack has grown to really like that bossy blonde in a way he never thought he would. It's good to have her with them, she helps him with their two beasts and it's so nice to finally have someone who's more like  _himself_ , someone he can talk to about more serious matters, without getting an eye roll, or a scoff, or even a  _growl_  as response.

He doesn't want to lose Eleanor either.

Months ago, all he wanted was to get rid of her, but now...

In fact, he spent most of his night awake, trying to come up with something,  _anything_  that could help keep his new friend safe. The only possibility he thought of was telling Teach that she was pregnant with Charles' child. That would surely keep him from murdering her right away.

But the truth would have to surface soon, and they have an hospital at the headquarters. They could easily find out if that was a lie or not.

There's no way out. His only option now is to step back and trust that Charles will be able to keep Eleanor safe, somehow.

Staring at the two of them in silence, Jack feels his chest tighten painfully. He just hopes they enjoyed this night together.

It could very well have been their last.

* * *

"Keep your head down, and whatever you do, don't leave my side."

For the first time, Eleanor doesn't show the slightest protest, nodding and accepting the order without hesitating for even a second.

Billy had just left them with one of the pirates, giving the pair a somewhat concerned look before parting ways with them to go take care of his own business while their guide led them in the opposite direction. They go down several sets of stairs, deeper and deeper underground, their footsteps echoing and making her anxiety even worse. The air is humid down here, and for a moment Eleanor can't help but admire how much her enemy has built over the last decades.

Even if it's just for a short moment.

She has received strange looks from the few other pirates who crossed their path, not daring to glare daggers at them like she wanted to do, knowing she needed to keep her head down for now, for her own safety. She doesn't know these men. She doesn't know what they're capable of.

Her only comfort as they walk the dark corridors is Charles' hand holding hers reassuringly, but it does little to make her feel better. She's a big mess. All she wants is to reach her enemy's office already and get this shit over with, but at the same time she wishes they could wait longer. The mixed emotions are killing her and for a moment she almost slips back into old habits, her mind trying to tell her that she should hate Charles for bringing her here.

But she fights back, reminding herself that she's the one who agreed to this, that it's not his fault if he was born Teach's nephew in this life, forever linked to him thanks to this blood relation.

After what feels like hours, their guide stops and knocks on a large wooden door.

Eleanor can hear her own heart racing.

For a second her survival instincts speak louder and she glances over her shoulder, needing to see the empty hallways behind her, to know that she'd have somewhere to run to and flee if her enemy tried anything...

Her blood runs cold when she sees that there are now two other pirates behind them, eyes glued to her, with their ebony skin and glistening rifles.

_When the fuck did they start following too?_

They sneer at her, the sounds leaving their mouths making her scowl. They clearly like what they see, and would have no problem taking what they wanted.

Charles notices this and looks over his shoulder at the two imbeciles, jaw clenched hard. He knows he doesn't have the authority to threaten them just yet, but he does glare at each of them in warning while Eleanor avoids their eyes, too disgusted to even look at them.

But she only feels worse when she catches sight of that familiar drawing on the door.

_His flag._

His muffled voice from inside the office makes her skin crawl.

She had hoped never to hear that sickening voice again.

Their guide opens the door, speaking in a very thick accent. "Your nephew, Sir."

After that, he gestures with his head, telling them they could go in.

Charles squeezes her hand one last time.

_No turning back now._

The last thing that runs through her mind before they walk through the door is how damn much she wishes she could be back home now, safe, taking care of the tavern with her father.

Finally, she defies the order, unable to keep her head down anymore,  _needing_  to face this man with a raised chin.

At first, she sees the uncharacteristic, warm smile on his lips, eyes shining with veiled love as he stares at his grown nephew.

_Short lived peace, the calm before the hurricane..._

All signs of affection and sympathy vanish in the blink of an eye when he sees her. For a split second, there's nothing but silence.

And then he reaches for the gun resting on the surface of his desk. "Oh, you gave got to be fucking  _kidding_  me!"

Disbelief is written all over his face.

She refuses to avert her eyes, even as her whole body trembles slightly.

But before Teach can even properly point the gun at her head, Charles pulls her behind his body a bit too roughly.

Shielded from the giant's ire and eyes, all she can hear is his scoff of indignation.

Her criminal's voice has a dangerous edge to it when he speaks in a tone she can only describe as commanding.

"Put that gun away, right now."

"Move aside. I'm doing you a favor."

Charles ignores his uncle's demand, and God,  _it kills her_  to cower behind him like this, acting all passive in front of her sworn enemy, but there's not much she can do in this particular situation and she knows it.

"You can shoot her if you want." Charles says and she scowls, feeling horror and pure anger take her over for a moment. Until he continues. "You can rip her body to pieces and feed her to the sharks. As long as you kill  _me_  first."

Eleanor never heard him speak like this before. A smile tries to come to her face but she fights back and finally moves to get a small peek at her enemy.

He's still holding the gun.

There are a thousand emotions in his eyes, a few of them standing out.

Anger.

Hate.

Pure, unbridled rage.

And that defeated look of those who feel betrayed by a loved one.

The very same look she saw in Charles' eyes when she took his ship.

Also just before she walked away with Abigail, her heart torn to pieces.

Tears burn in her own eyes and she swallows hard, feeling victorious to see Teach like that, but knowing things can still get very tragic in a heartbeat.

The giant in front of them is completely unmoving, the stillness reminding her of when they reached the eye of the storm with their beloved ship weeks ago.

She keeps glaring daggers at him like a venomous snake, her eyes barely visible over Charles' shoulder. She's well aware that their guide closed that heavy door behind them...

Eleanor doesn't need to see her criminal's face to know how he looks like right now, with that dark scowl of warning, that wild glint in his eyes. And she feels so relieved that he's keeping his promise and standing in the way between her and his uncle's wrath like this.

For some reason, thinking like this brings a fresh wave of that strange fear but she does her best to ignore it, eyes returning to Teach. She can see he's still pointing the gun at them with a clenched jaw, clearly struggling to make a decision as the seconds drag by...

And then he finally moves.


	13. Docility

The very second she sees Teach lowering the gun, she knows he's up to something.

Even as he sets it back on the surface of his large wooden desk, even as he moves away from the piece of furniture, Eleanor just knows that this is far from over, it can't be this simple to let go of all those years of accumulated hatred...

It just can't.

Charles relaxes only slightly in front of her, still not willing to let his guard down completely either.

"Thought you had tossed her away this time."

"I never said that. You're the one who jumped to conclusions."

Tthe giant lets out a brief, sour laugh. "I wanted to believe you were smarter than this. Are all your memories truly back? Or you don't remember what that treacherous, ungrateful wench did to you? Everything she cost you?"

Eleanor can see the criminal clenching his fists hard at his uncle's words.

_She just prays he won't snap..._

"And yet you accept her back into your life, just like that? You bring that disloyal snake near your little sister? You  _dare_  to bring her to  _my house_?"

He's not even sparing a glance at her face, his eyes locked with Charles'. She can feel her blood boiling, the fear being gradually replaced by anger and indignation as her enemy continues to talk about her in such a degrading manner, acting as if she's not here...

She's had  _more than enough_  of men treating her like a fucking piece of furniture.

"You don't get to speak about us." Her voice sounds in the office, causing Teach to finally meet her eyes. Charles immediately tenses again, face filled with warning as he looks at her over his shoulder.

But hell, if he thinks she will cower under their eyes, he's wrong. It takes  _much more_  than two men to make her back down.

Even if they're significantly stronger, and one of them could be compared to a bear.

"You don't get to speak about me, or Charles, or Davina. You fucking left him. You have no right to dictate anything about his life at this point."

Her criminal is clenching his jaw hard, and she knows she'll get an earful for this later. But it's so worth it.

She'll never keep her mouth shut and act all passive again.

Her chin remains raised high even as Teach scoffs briefly, taking a step closer to the desk - and the gun.

"By all means... Explain to me, how does acting as his hangman classify you as a suitable person for him to have by his side?" Another step closer. And she still refuses to back down or even avert her eyes. "Tell me, what's in it for you this time? What are you doing here,  _wench_? Have you not taken enough from him already? What else do you want?"

His words are piercing her heart, bringing waves and waves of that familiar self-hatred crashing over her. But on the outside, she still appears perfectly calm and collected.

"What are you going to do this time? Murder him in his sleep?"

"Enough!" Charles finally snaps, and silence reigns in the office for a moment after his outburst. He's clearly trying to get his own anger under control, and Eleanor shivers when he gives her the same dark look he's using with his uncle.

" _You_ -" He says in a rough voice, staring at Teach. "...don't get to treat me as if I'm a fucking child who doesn't know how to make decisions. Thanks to  _you_ , I had to learn how to build walls around myself, how to defend myself on my own, I  _assure_  you... That if there's something I can do is make my own decisions and choose the best path for myself, because I had to learn all that, in the most painful way possible. And this time, it wasn't thanks to  _her_." He points at Eleanor over his shoulder, eyes trained on his uncle. "It was all thanks to  _you_. So you better think twice before opening your mouth to suggest that I can't take care of myself, because I had to learn how to do that before even learning how to read."

Eleanor's heart clenches for him and she almost brings a reassuring hand to his arm. But then he looks at her over his shoulder, eyes dark with warning and irritation.

"And you...  _Back the fuck down_."

She responds to his angry glare with one of her own, knowing that this isn't really the time for her strong personality... but the mere thought of lowering her head to  _anyone_  again is enough to tear her to pieces.

Even more if it's to her life partner  _or_  her sworn enemy.

But their attention snaps back to Teach when he moves, walking closer.

Much to their relief, he passes the desk, making no move to grab his gun again.

His towering presence looms in front of them, but not even the massive body that practically emanates power is enough to make Eleanor lower her eyes.

"How can you even  _look_  at her, after everything she did?"

His voice sounds somewhat defeated now, blue eyes filled with anguish.

"She's proven her worth, time and again. You really think I'd let her anywhere near my sister if I thought there was any chance she was still that traitorous bitch?"

A scowl comes to her face and she clenches her jaw, not liking to hear Charles talk about her like that. It reminds her of those times after they recovered their memories. And she hates to think about it. There was so much pain, and she just wasn't herself... She humiliated herself so damn much, she cried like a baby so many times, she practically  _begged_  him for her place in his heart again.

Maybe after  _everything_ , a little humiliation was in order. Maybe it was much needed...

But still, Eleanor prefers not to think about all that.

Teach scoffs at his nephew's words.

" _She's 'proven her worth_ '?" He glances at her face, eyes filled with disgust. "I assume that by this, you mean she jumped into your bed once and the past was automatically erased."

She doesn't need to look down to know that Charles is clenching his fists hard again.

For a moment she actually wishes he'll punch his uncle in the face.

But then the giant sighs heavily and steps away from them before turning to walk back towards his desk. Charles makes sure he's shielding her body completely, eyes glued to the glistening gun.

But his uncle doesn't even touch it, walking to sit behind the desk instead.

Silence reigns as he closes his eyes and rubs his forehead, and for a moment the sleeve of his leather coat reveals what looks like a large, red scar. Eleanor frowns at that, immediately intrigued and remembering Davina's words, but the strange mark is soon hidden from her sight again.

She can't help but wonder if this is the reason why Teach wears a coat even during daytime, in the heat of Africa.

He must be trying to hide something.

_Just like her with her self-harm scars._

She scowls, shaking her head briefly as Teach looks up at them again.

She sees it in his eyes, he has made a decision.

A shudder goes down her spine.

"I won't drive you away again." He sounds tired, eyes glued to his nephew's face. "I have been waiting three decades for this reunion. The last thing I want is to let it be ruined all thanks to this backstabbing wench. I believe you will soon regret this. Regret having her by your side again. But that is your problem, and yours alone. There's nothing I can do..." He taps his fingers on his desk, and Eleanor can see right through him. He's playing a role. "...Except finally welcome you back home with open arms."

Charles remains silent, a frown refusing to leave his face as his uncle looks down at the gun, straightening up.

"I trust you understand that... Due to this particular turn of events, I cannot let you two leave the headquarters for extended periods of time. Of course, you may see your sister whenever you wish, but for the remainder of your stay in my domain, I  _request_ that you sleep here, where I can keep an eye on  _that one_." He points at Eleanor and she glares at him in defiance over Charles' shoulder. "I'm sure we can find appropriate accommodations for Miss Guthrie-"

"Eleanor stays with me."

She sees the way he clenches his jaw at his nephew's words, fingers stopping their motion against the wooden desk. But he's quick to mask the frustration, forcing a nod.

"Very well. I will arrange a room for the two of you then. Expect one of my men to come find you once dusk arrives, I will have some of the pirates move your stuff from the ship to your new room, in the meantime..." He sighs heavily, rubbing his forehead again. "Explore the place. Take a look around, make yourself at home. Do whatever you will, just get  _her_  out of my office, I have had enough."

Charles stares at his uncle for a moment, probably not believing it could be this easy.

But when the giant doesn't meet his eyes, he turns around, his face still dark. He makes Eleanor turn around too, a bit too roughly, and his hand lingers on her shoulder as he encourages her to walk to the door.

She almost snaps at him, but then realizes he's still protecting her, keeping her shielded from his uncle even as they turn their backs to him.

"Open up." Teach's voice suddenly booms like thunder behind them and she jumps slightly, grateful for Charles' body keeping his uncle from seeing her reaction.

Their guide opens the door and waits for instructions as they step out of the office.

"No need to keep men following my nephew's every move. He's home. Leave him free to explore and spread the word that he's not to be disturbed."

The pirate promptly answers with a "Yes Sir" and lets his eyes linger on Eleanor for a second before walking away.

"Charles." They hear Teach's voice again and the criminal pushes Eleanor away so she was protected by the wall while turning around to face his uncle, standing in the doorway.

"I hope you will not take advantage of my good will. Keep in mind that I have eyes and ears all over this facility. And make no mistake, if I even  _suspect_  that this pest you brought with you is trying to go back to her old ways or coming up with funny ideas, I  _will_  take drastic measures. So you better keep her in line, don't let her forget who's in charge here. Remind her that she's not in her father's home this time." Charles hesitates, meeting Eleanor's eyes for a moment before nodding at his uncle. The giant speaks again. "I spend most of my time here, and we still have much to talk about. It would be appreciated if you stopped by later...  _Without_  your little plaything, if you please."

This time, he doesn't nod.

Eleanor feels as if she can finally breathe again as he closes that heavy wooden door and grabs a hold of her arm, leading her away from the office.

* * *

It doesn't matter that he's giving her the cold shoulder.

It doesn't matter that he hasn't said a word to her since they left his uncle's office.

She's alive, and she kept her pride  _intact_  while facing her enemy after all this time... This is worth every dark glare Charles gives her.

It doesn't take too long before they end up running into Anne and Jack in the hallways. And Eleanor can't believe it, but Jack's eyes fill with relief when he sees her. It seems he momentarily forgets about Anne's presence, briefly checking her body for any damage and letting out a soft laugh when he finds none.

"I  _can't believe_  he let you live."

She raises her chin, smirking at him in a sassy manner. "What can I say, I have a certain skill when it comes to survival."

She makes the mistake of meeting Charles' eyes and he clenches his jaw, shaking his head at her with a dark look on his face before storming away from them, heading to the cafeteria nearby. Anne rolls her eyes at the two other people and follows her leader, looking just as sour.

"Okay... What did I miss?"

Eleanor grimaces briefly, though she can't contain her proud smile. "I... sort of snapped at Teach."

Jack can't help but laugh briefly at that, once again admiring her courage. It seems it's the strong women who always find a spot in his heart.

"You ' _sort of_ ' snapped at Teach."

She nods as they begin to walk side by side to the cafeteria too, much slower than their two savages. "Now Charles is mad at me because he told me to stay quiet and I defied his orders."

He smirks when she gives him that playful eye roll, the one few people have the pleasure of seeing.

"Nothing new here. He should have already learned by now, that you can't follow orders to save your life. Maybe if he told you to scream at Teach and raise trouble... Now  _that_  would have been far more effective to keep you silent."

Eleanor shoves his shoulder half-heartedly, chuckling at his words.

She doesn't fail to notice that once the initial relief of seeing her alive and well passes, Jack has a strange look in his eyes.

"What is it?"

He meets her eyes briefly, sighing with a shake of his head. "It's nothing. We were just catching up with Max half an hour ago, she called... Anne thinks she's hiding something from us."

Eleanor frowns at that, searching the cafeteria for their savages and finding them seated at a table in the shadiest corner, sharing a cigar in silence. With a roll of her eyes, she focuses her attention back on Jack. "I'm sure that's not the case. But if it makes you feel better, I'll call her too... What's the time difference, by the way?"

"Somalia is 11 hours ahead of LA."

She nods, memorizing that information. "Then I'll call her tonight before going to sleep. This way it will be morning for her."

They stop to sit at a table, away from the one Charles and Anne chose. They know better than to interrupt their little silent moment.

"So? How did it go, how mad was he?"

Eleanor sighs heavily, checking the texts she had received from Caroline and her two father figures. "I suppose it could have been much worse. He was really angry at first, but soon, it became clear that in order to hurt me, he would have to kill Charles. So he backed down... Sort of."

"Sort of?"

She meets his eyes, setting her phone aside. And it's so good to have someone to talk to about this.

Eleanor never thought she'd be so grateful to have Jack in her life.

"I saw right through him. He's up to something, waiting for the right moment. I just know it."

She tries to keep her voice quiet, remembering what Teach said about having eyes and ears all over the facility.

One look around lets her know he wasn't bluffing. There are cameras everywhere.

He's probably watching her from his office this very moment.

Eleanor shakes her head, repressing a shudder. "Fuck, I seriously hope there will be no cameras in our private quarters."

Jack frowns in confusion at this. "Private quarters?"

She rolls her eyes with a heavy sigh. "Courtesy of Teach. He doesn't want us to spend too much time away from the headquarters so it seems we will need to sleep here for the remainder of this hellish 'vacation'." A pained look comes to her face. "God, I miss my island  _so much_."

Jack reaches to squeeze her hand with a sympathetic half smile. "It's not forever. Give him some time. Even though he insists that he came here only for Davina, you and I both know that's not the case. This is really important for him, Eleanor. You have no idea how much he longed for this while we were growing up, to know more about his origins, to be face to face with the person who left him at that orphanage. There are demons he needs to kill, just give him some time. And please, try not to fight too much. He may be angry with you right now, but he needs you in this delicate moment of his life, even though he would never admit that out loud. Just stay by his side. Trust me, it will mean the world to him."

Her eyes soften a bit and she glances in the direction of the other table, catching Charles looking at her. But he's quick to avert his eyes.

She can't help but smile softly at this.

And as the day passes, Eleanor remains by Jack's side, eagerly waiting for the night to come so she could have some alone time with her criminal and -  _hopefully_  - make peace with him.

* * *

**Los Angeles**

_How can a 5 week old baby who was born nearly dead have such a powerful set of lungs?_

Max tries her best not to intervene, watching the pitiful scene from the shadows in Aiden's nursery. They're at Sarah's house and the new mother is struggling, along with her ex-husband, to get the infant to calm down.

Woodes is fresh out of the hospital. Now that he can walk on his own again, Mason brought him here to see his son. But his attempt of holding the baby just ended the same way as every other. Aiden is screaming at the top of his lungs, and it takes all of Max's willpower not to laugh or smirk.

The baby only cries when placed in his father's arms. Despite their best efforts to make him like Woodes, Aiden is simply having none of it and refusing to cooperate.

"This is not working, give him to me." Sarah's tired voice says and she takes the baby from her ex-husband's arms. The cries instantly quiet down and Mason shakes his head from the doorway.

"This situation is seriously ridiculous. Why does he act like that?"

The question was directed at Max and she simply shrugs. "I am only here to help Sarah adjust to life with a newborn. I have no way of knowing what goes on inside Aiden's head." She meets Woodes' eyes, a smirk tugging at her lips. "For all I know, it's possible that he doesn't like the sound of your voice, or the way you hold him... Or even the way you smell, who knows."

She sees him clench his jaw, pretty satisfied with herself.

Although Max knows she should probably tread carefully here, this is simply too damn priceless.

Her phone buzzes in her pocket and she pulls it out, eyes widening briefly when she sees Eleanor's name on the caller ID.

Of course, she immediately refuses the call, taking one brief glance at Woodes to make sure he was distracted before hurriedly sending her friend a text.

_-Can't pick up now. At the hospital. What happened?_

She barely pays attention to whatever bullshit Mason is talking about, eyes glued to her phone as her favorite blonde replies.

_"Shitty day. Saw Teach. Fought with Charles. Jack thinks you're hiding something."_

Again, her eyes widen and she almost curses out loud, excusing herself and walking out of the nursery.

_-Are you okay? Did Teach try anything?_

_"Pointed a gun at me, at first. But he backed down, for now. We're forced to stay at the headquarters."_

She breathes a sigh of relief, but rolls her eyes when another text arrives.

_"Now stop avoiding what I said about Jack. Anne thinks you're up to something too."_

Max glances at the light blue door to the nursery, knowing she can't tell her the truth.

Mentioning Aiden would probably just send Eleanor spiraling down into her sorrow over that lost baby of hers, the one who wasn't even a real baby yet to begin with, but oh well.

Reincarnating really did mess a little bit with the Eleanor she knew before.

And this is both good and bad at the same time.

_-They're probably just stressed and imagining things. Being away from me for too long takes a toll on these two, I'm the best thing that ever happened to them. They just can't cope without my guidance._

She smiles, able to picture Eleanor's eye roll as if she was right here in front of her. There's a twinge of pain in her heart.

Fuck, she misses her queen really bad. And just to imagine her in the lion's den...

_"I better not find out you're hiding something from me."_

Max bites her lower lip, making sure she was still alone in the hallway.

_-You won't. Where's Charles now?_

_"Shower. While I'm getting familiar with our new accommodations."_

_-You have plans of making peace with him anytime soon?_

_"I want to. Lately, I've been feeling really weird. I feel something bad will happen to him. So no, I don't really want to fight him right now."_

Max's eyebrows raise at this. That's definitely new.

_-Want to talk about it?_

_"It's probably nothing, just stress, as Jack said. But I can't shake this feeling, ever since we got to Somalia I feel as if there's something coming, something horrible... But I can't do anything about it."_

She frowns, staring down at the phone. Her poor Ice Queen.

All she wants is to hold her close and offer her some comfort.

_-I'm with Jack. It must be nothing, you're just scared, and with good reason... Though I know you'll never admit it. Just rest now, and make peace with Charles. Fighting right now is the last thing you two need._

_"I know. I'll let you work in peace. It's late in here anyway."_

A soft smile plays on Max's lips and she types one quick last message, hearing the nursery door open.

_-Now just go and make peace with him!_

Just as she sends the text, the three adults walk out that light blue door.

Sarah's eyes are shining with pride.

"I made him sleep all by myself."

She resists the urge to roll her eyes.

And just before Rogers walks out the front door with his stupid brother, he glances at her over his shoulder.

The dark, crazed glint in his eyes sends an unpleasant shiver down her spine.

* * *

_"Now just go and make peace with him!"_

Eleanor chuckles briefly at the text before setting her phone aside.

Truth be told, she's a little angry with herself. She wasn't planning to vent like that, but then again, Max always had a certain ability to make her open up effortlessly. Most times, when Eleanor realized it, she was already spilling her soul.

_Damn that exotic beauty and her perfect, soothing accent._

With a heavy sigh, she lets her back hit the mattress. There's a headache coming on and she stares up at the brown ceiling. Their new temporary sleeping chambers are not much, the floor and walls are made of cold stone, it feels as if she's living in a cave.

Decorations are non-existent, no windows of course, since they're underground. The single lamp hanging from the ceiling is barely enough to illuminate the whole room. The bed is pretty decent though, bigger than their bunk back at the ship and comfortable enough, one of the sides touching the wall. It even has a canopy, but it's nothing too fancy.

She really likes those. Maybe they could get one for their cabin on the Ranger, or even a curtain to isolate their bunk from the rest of the cabin.

The shower finally stops running and she glances at the door to the bathroom, waiting a couple of minutes until her criminal stepped out, hair wet, wearing nothing but a towel around his hips.

He rummages through his bag for a moment and she finally gathers the courage to speak.

"How long will you pretend I'm not here? Do you plan on-"

"What the  _fuck_  was that?"

He looks furious when he turns around to face her. It makes her scowl at him.

"What?"

"You know exactly what I mean! My orders were very clear, I told you to keep your head down and your mouth shut-"

" _Excuse me_?" She interrupts his words, getting to her feet. Her face is filled with indignation as she makes her way over to him. "You think I give a  _fuck_  about your orders? You think I'm going to follow them unconditionally and act like some docile flower when faced with my enemy-"

"Correct me if I'm wrong..." He meets her halfway, body right in front of hers as they stare at each other's faces, neither willing to back down. "...but I believe you had no problem playing that role in the past."

The slap resounds in the cave-like room, taking them both by surprise.

He wasn't expecting such a reaction, just as she didn't think she'd actually hit him. But it happened anyway, and the dark look that comes to his eyes makes her shiver.

"Don't you dare bringing that up now. Can't you see this is  _exactly_  what he wants? Your uncle will use every little fight to his advantage, he wants to tear us apart, to hurt me-"

Any other words she might have said die in her throat as he snakes an arm around her waist and hauls her against his body, his skin still cold from the shower - he only accepts warm water when she's showering with him - as her hands immediately travel up his sides, his lips claiming hers.

She's wearing nothing but one of his shirts, his hands already feeling her skin underneath the fabric when they reach the bed.

"Can you put the slightest bit of faith in me, or is that too much to ask?" He asks against the skin of her neck before sitting on the bed and pulling her into his lap. She just sighs, closing her eyes. "You saw what happened today. It wasn't so bad."

She shakes her head at his words.

"He was reining in his anger. That never ends well... This is far from over." Eleanor lets out a shaky breath and gets off his lap, moving away from him on the bed until her back touched the wall. "We both know how he is, we both know how much he  _hates_  me. He's planning something, I feel it in my bones."

"I can deal with him. Nothing's going to happen. But you really need to cooperate. Understand that if I ask you to play that docile role again, it's for your own safety. As much as it kills me to see you like that, it's needed right now."

She grimaces, actually understanding but still not okay with this. "You can't honestly expect me to back down, to lower my head to him-"

"Remember what he said, Eleanor." He moves closer, the towel barely secured around his hips by now. "You are  _not_  in your father's house anymore. This is  _his_  kingdom; you saw how many men he has under his command. That number exceeds our own crew, we are outnumbered here, and you know it. I  _will_  protect you no matter what, but under current circumstances... I can't keep you safe unless you cooperate and do your part."

Eleanor lowers her eyes, trying to come up with a retort. But he's right and she  _knows_  it.

"I can  _try_. But if he taunts me, I will snap again."

Charles lets out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head at her.

But she doesn't fail to recognize the proud glint in his eyes. Her braveness always has that effect on him.

"Then I guess we better keep you away from him at all costs."

She nods immediately, moving to straddle his lap.

"Now  _that_..." She kisses the corner of his lips, offering him a half smirk. "Sounds like the most brilliant idea you've ever had."

He rolls his eyes half-heartedly, hands going to her hips to hold her close while his lips started exploring her neck.

"I couldn't help but notice..." She begins, tangling her hands in his hair with a smile on her face. "...that once again, you just couldn't stop yourself from kissing me after I slapped you. Not to mention all the times this happened in our past lives too. I'm starting to think you're into that."

He chuckles against her skin before meeting her eyes.

"I'm into  _you_."

His simple answer makes her smile widen, but then that other nasty fear of hers chooses this moment to attack and she remembers the conversation she had with Flint in his house, before the tavern was returned to her.

And of course, Charles notices the sudden change in her mood.

"You want to say something."

Eleanor takes a deep breath, deciding simply to ask the question already.

And praying he wouldn't react badly.

"If it comes down to it... If you have to choose between me or Teach..." He sighs, and she's quick to continue. "I didn't want to ask, because I was afraid it would remind you of the past, but I just need to be certain that..."

She trails off when he brings his lips to her neck again, this time moving so she was laying on her back while his body covered hers.

She takes one last glance at what she could see of their sleeping chambers, feeling as if they were still being watched, though there were no cameras in sight.

Still, she pushes him away before he can free her from his shirt, reaching to pull the thick canopy around the bed so they were isolated.

"Paranoid much?"

The hint of humor in Charles' voice makes her roll her eyes and she proceeds to pull the oversized shirt over her head, exposing her skin to his hungry eyes. Even if the canopy creates a cocoon of darkness, he can see some of her body.

And what he can't see, he  _feels_.

His long fingers run down her sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake as she impatiently gets rid of the already loose towel, tossing it to the foot of the bed before straddling his lap again.

He grabs a hold of her arm while Eleanor rocked her hips teasingly, their eyes locked together when he kisses the inside of her wrist. His lips linger on the thin, delicate skin, sea-blue eyes falling closed as he felt her pulse fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird.

A brief smile tugs at the right corner of her lips and she runs her own fingers along the line of his jaw, taking a moment to enjoy the dark beard rough on her palm.

Calloused hands now move up her sides, one of them tilting her chin up gently while the other cupped her left breast.

Part of her still expects the door to flung open at any second, Davina's excited voice and questions to fill their ears as she rushed to pull the canopy open, innocently unaware of what they were doing, but there's nothing. And all thoughts of the bright little girl dissipate in the air when she moves and feels him pressing against her, hot, hard flesh slowly slipping inside,  _finally_ , after all the stress of the last two days.

The delicious pressure causes Eleanor's eyes to fall closed for a moment, a soft sigh of satisfaction escaping her as Charles clenched his jaw.

Not in anger, this time.

Her eyelids open again and she stares at his face with those bedroom eyes he loves more than the sea itself, experimentally moving up and down once, twice, three times before gaining the confidence she needed to set a rhythm, his hands coming to her waist and ass to help guide her, fingers squeezing her heated skin.

Her heavy breathing and soft moans soon start to fill the room, all her worries about a hidden camera capturing images or sounds of their chambers vanishing suddenly. Part of her actually  _wants_  Teach to be aware of what they're doing, she  _wants_  him to know that his nephew is still putty in her hands, just like in the past.

Blue-green eyes flutter shut and Charles nuzzles his cheek against hers, his rough beard prickling along her jaw and down her neck while he trailed hot kisses and bites over her skin. Flushed all over from the sensations, Eleanor bites back by picking up her pace without any sort of warning. Somehow, the sound of his pleasure only fuels hers even more, his groans making her toes curl.

Their eyes remain locked together, sweat mixing when she sinks down on him one last time, her whole body trembling for a second as she lets out a gasp of his name, rocking against him shamelessly to ride out her release.

His self control snaps then and Charles swallows the small sound of surprise that leaves her lips when he suddenly surges forward and pushes her onto her back, covering her body with his, pinning her to the bed. One hand restrains her wrist against the mattress, his free arm cradling her head, fingers tangling in the golden hair as he thrusts with abandon, eyes finally falling closed. He buries his face in her neck, movements growing more and more erratic until there's a sharp thrust of his hips. She can feel the rigid flesh buried inside her throbbing hot for a few long moments. Her free arm instantly moves to his upper back when he collapses on top of her, his fingers still wrapped around her left wrist.

A lazy smile tugs at Eleanor's lips as she feels his damp skin, caressing his back soothingly before running her finger through his now mostly dry hair.

His hot breath against the skin of her neck brings goosebumps to her arms and she closes her eyes too, savoring this moment and the comforting weight of his body while he recovers, his guard  _completely_  down...

She could stab him in the back right now and he'd be too spent to stop her.

It makes her heart flutter.

Even though he's unable to forgive her, she's been slowly building up trust between them again.

And that already means the world to her.

Eleanor knows she will never be able to ask him for forgiveness, she doesn't have that right. But he's giving her his trust. His heart.

_It's enough._

Just as the weight of his body starts to make her uncomfortable, he sighs briefly and rolls off her, laying on his back and pulling her to his side.

"Hope that answered your question."

Eleanor's breathless laugh echoes in the cave-like room, his words bringing a wave of relief and love crashing over her, although she refuses to acknowledge it.

Her right hand rests over his heart then she reaches for the anchor pendant, resting her head on his chest while staring at the object.

Her smile falters only slightly as she realizes something.

Teach has unknowingly brought important stuff to her life.

The wooden cabin in the woods, the sanctuary, that wonderful place she and Charles ran away to, where they shared a weekend that could only be described as paradise... Her enemy built that cabin with his own hands.

And this pendant that was such a source of comfort for her back when they didn't have their memories of the previous lives, this pendant she held in her hand so many nights while she slept...

It belonged to  _him_ , long before it was placed around his infant nephew's neck, the night he left him at the orphanage's doorstep.

A soft sigh escapes her and Eleanor shakes her head, smile widening again when she looks at Charles' face and finds him staring at her, entranced, his fingers caressing her exposed shoulder so softly...

The criminal doesn't even blink while watching her perfect face, not wanting to miss anything. He'll  _never_  get enough of the way she looks in her afterglow.

_In his dictionary, this is the meaning of the word perfection._

She breathes deeply, snuggling closer, closing her eyes and mumbling a few words.

He doesn't quite catch the beginning of the sentence but what he hears is already enough to bring a smug half-smirk to his lips.

"-always so much better with you."

With a brief chuckle, he tightens his arms around her and presses a kiss to her forehead.

"Always glad to know that, Princess."

She immediately opens her eyes and looks at his face again, smile still in place and eyes filled with a mix of surprise and amusement.

"It's been several months since the last time you called me that."

Charles can't help but keep smiling at her too, shrugging briefly.

"It didn't really suit us anymore, after the memories came back."

She nods in agreement, letting out a soft chuckle.

"We were so cliché, weren't we? The shady, badass criminal and the rich, lonely heiress."

Charles can't help but agree with her, moving one hand to the back of her neck when she leans in to press a brief kiss to his lips. Her gorgeous eyes shine with mirth as she plays with his anchor pendant, speaking again. "I very much prefer the way things are now."

_I prefer to be with you, whatever the circumstances._

He doesn't say the words out loud. But his eyes speak for themselves and Eleanor gets the silent message, rolling her eyes playfully.

Soon enough, Charles can feel her breathing as it turns even and deep against the skin of his chest, her fingers loosening their grip on the anchor pendant. The darkness, the canopy creating a safe cocoon around them, the comfort of her soft body flush against his...

It's almost enough to make his resolve falter, to make him close his eyes and wait until sweet sleep decided to claim him too.

But curiosity gets the best of him and he gently frees his necklace from Eleanor's grasp. A brief, adorable sound leaves her lips as she scowls softly and rolls over, her hands touching the stone wall.

Even when she has her back to him, the sight of her sleeping form is always enough to make his eyes soften.

Letting out a brief sigh, Charles leans in to drop a kiss to her messy blonde curls.

_I love you._

He almost says it out loud. Almost.

Those three words he comes so dangerously close to telling her almost every night.

He knows for a fact that she goes through the very same conflict.

They only said it once, an exchange of " _I fucking love you's_ ", one said by her in a fit of anger and despair... He only responded to her declaration months later, when they were so happy in the newly acquired ship.

It was so sincere, and scary, and it felt like  _freedom_.

He longs to feel that again, but something always holds him back from saying those damn words. He sees the desire to do so in Eleanor's eyes too, but it seems she always wins the battle against that scary urge.

It almost hurts to open the canopy and get up from the bed.

He gets dressed in silence, eyes moving to the sleeping beauty from times to times as Charles makes sure he's not disturbing her slumber.

Once ready, he moves closer to the bed, spending a few moments staring at her naked skin before pulling the blankets over her body and closing the thick canopy again.

The soft look on his face vanishes as soon as he walks out of the room, features darkening while he addresses the pirate standing guard outside their chambers.

"Watch this door and protect the woman sleeping inside this room as if your life depends on it. Because if anything happens to her, I'll slit your throat before you can even try to run."

The armed guy doesn't seem too happy to receive orders, but he also knows who Charles is and decides to respect him as the prince of this empire, nodding his head and moving so he stood right in front of the door.

After hesitating for one last second, the criminal turns around and begins the walk to the office.

After three decades, he's done waiting. He has countless questions to ask his uncle, so many things he wants and  _needs_  to know...

And tonight, Teach is going to answer each and every one of these questions, whether he likes it or not.

He owes Charles this much, after all.


	14. Journey to the Past

He doesn't bother knocking.

His uncle's eyes move from the papers on the desk to him. That warm half-smile that appeared the other two times Charles came to his office is nowhere to be seen.

Instead, Teach just has a tired, sorrowful look on his face.

They study each other for a moment before the giant sighs heavily, rubbing his temples, and Charles walks over to sit on the chair in front of the desk.

"Can I at least expect an explanation?"

He sounds so defeated. It's strange.

His nephew just keeps his eyes on the papers; maps, logs, written strategies and info about the cargo ships they target.

"Charles, how the  _hell_  did this happen?"

His voice is considerably stronger now and the younger man finally meets his eyes again.

"You better not think it was simple. That she let me fuck her one time after the memories came back and all our issues were solved just like that." He sighs, leaning back against the chair. Remembering those turbulent times never does him much good. "I did shut her out of my life. I tossed her away. She went straight back to Rogers' arms."

The clench of his jaw and right fist is automatic after he says those words, and the tiniest bit of sympathy flickers in his uncle's eyes. Luckily, Teach stays silent and lets him continue.

"She tried to reawaken her feelings for that bastard, she did her very best... She thought life would be perfect... She had her husband back, they weren't in the middle of a damn war anymore, they could have a safe, happy life, and to top it all off, she even had her shit of a father again. It was paradise for her."

He's unable to look Teach in the eyes, not wanting him to see his pain. Talking about this is torture, he can't help but think about how things might have gone...

He could be here in Somalia alone right now, joining his uncle's pirates while his queen was two oceans away, with those two  _bastards_.

_Hell._

With a deep breath, he continues his story.

"Except it just... Didn't feel right. As hard as she tried, she just couldn't connect with Rogers again, she realized Richard would never love her... And it killed her. Of course, her first instinct was to lie to herself, to pretend things were going to be just fine. But she couldn't live that lie for too long." There's a pause and he prepares himself before telling the next part. "One night, I go to one of our hideouts. She's there, standing in front of the bed, scared to death. She said she was  _sorry_. And I was unable to resist her... It was rough. I kept exposing the truth, rubbing it on her face, not caring how much pain that caused her. But once we were done, I told her that if she was still in the hideout by the time I returned, I'd hand her over to Anne."

"And would you have followed through with that threat?"

Disapproval and a little bit of hope shine in his uncle's eyes and he thinks about the question for a moment.

"Yes." He waits a few seconds, pushing away the twinge of pain in his heart as he thinks about doing that. "But I don't know how long it would take me to bend and go save her."

All the hope vanishes from Teach's face and he shakes his head slowly.

"After this encounter of ours... Fate kept pushing us towards each other. I ended up going to her room one night, and what I found..." That scene plays in his mind and his heart skips a beat as he remembers the sight of Eleanor sitting on the floor in her bathroom, blood all over her thighs, hands, staining her face. Her wide eyes, filled with tears and pure  _despair_. The deep cuts, that damn glistening blade. "...of course I had trouble believing her when she used words to say she was sorry... But that night, that night she  _showed_  it to me. She showed me the extent of her pain, how much she regretted her actions."

"How?"

He hesitates, not liking the idea of exposing his queen's secret to her enemy.

Choosing his words carefully, Charles leans forward on his seat.

"She hurt herself. She hurt herself really bad."

Teach frowns at his words but thankfully, he doesn't press the matter, simply staring at his nephew's face and waiting for the rest of his story.

"I took care of her. Spent the whole weekend caring for her wounds and making sure she was okay. We argued a lot. But she stayed as close to me as she possibly could. And something happened." Pausing to get his irritation under control, Charles lets out a heavy sigh. "She may have gone back to the governor but one thing was different. She never, ever said a word about me or my whereabouts. She didn't even  _think_  about selling me out to him. I kept waiting... Waiting for this final blow, so I would be able to overcome the feelings that still lingered... Feelings from the previous life, only fueled thanks to the time we spent together in this one. But that day in her room, I realized this betrayal would never come. Not this time."

"What are you saying?"

"She wasn't picking up Rogers' calls. The bastard got worried and went to the mansion, to her room, so he could make sure she was okay... And I was there, my usual escape route blocked. At first I thought she had planned this all along. But then she proved me wrong. I hid in her closet while the governor talked to her in the room. The only thought in my mind was that she'd sell me out all over again. And my only comfort was that I'd get to kill her perfect little husband right before her eyes. I was prepared to do it. But then he was gone. He left the mansion and she didn't say a word about me."

His uncle lowers his eyes only briefly, but that hatred for Eleanor is still clear as the light of day.

"After this episode, we started to drift back towards each other. Between stupid little games in a nightclub, an annoying mutual friend of ours doing her very best to bring us closer..." He pauses, unable to contain his half smirk as he remembers all of Max's efforts. "...It was inevitable. But still, I resisted her. Until the day I was able to save my sister thanks to her assistance. She was the one who told us who had Davina. If it wasn't for her, we wouldn't have been able to find her. Originally, me and the others were going to get a ship and travel here as soon as we had Davina. But it didn't happen because I gave Eleanor two weeks to forget about her pride and open up, to try and repair some of our past. And she did. It was a slow process, but she did. She told me everything she felt, not hiding anything. She told me about the hate, about the love. Everything. Did I mention she was plagued by nightmares about my hanging since she turned 5 years old in this life?"

Surprise flickers in the giant's eyes but it's not nearly enough to make the anger vanish.

"She did it. She was honest and she trusted me completely. In the days that followed we made more progress and showed more honesty with each other than we did in our whole past lives. And yet... Sick devotion for her father and for Rogers lingered, keeping her from leaving with me. She  _wanted_  to, but was still unable to leave the governor behind, clinging to that perfect image she had of him."

"And why didn't you leave, by the end of the two weeks?"

"Because Rogers started to remember." Teach narrows his eyes at those words, leaning forward slightly. His eyes shine with what Charles can only describe as bloodlust. "I didn't want to leave her in LA, unprotected, while that bastard recovered his memories. So I stayed. Mary left with Davina. Jack and Anne were free to go with them but they chose to stay with me. And Rogers... was slowly going insane. He found out what my name was, somehow. With his brother and Richard's help, he kidnapped Eleanor and locked her in his family's mansion. To keep her away from me. His sick subconscious understood he had some sort of  _ownership_  over her, due to their past. So she became his prisoner. And that's when Flint arrived."

Again, surprise fills Teach's eyes. He clearly wasn't expecting that one.

"He always remembered everything, right from the start. And he helped us to set her free. She didn't want anything to do with Richard or her ex-husband after that, and chose to stay with me at the hideout. We were in peace, but soon... That bastard recovered his memories completely, and it caused him to break. He lost his mind. And he went after Eleanor... He almost raped her. If it wasn't for Anne finding them just in time..."

" _Anne_  saved her?"

His tone is dripping with disbelief and the last thing Charles wants is to reveal what happened to Anne in her childhood. She doesn't like people to know about it, and with good reason.

That familiar urge to protect her crashes over him like a wave and he tries hard to rein in his anger, as well as the strong protective instinct he always had over the redhead.

Since the first time he saw her in this life, across that room at that orphanage. She was just so small, keeping her head down and shrinking in the corner. Like a scared mouse, but still not shedding a tear. He watched as Jack made his way over to the five year old and offered her his apple. The two of them got closer and though it took her a while to let anyone other than Jack come near her, Charles always watched her from afar like a guardian angel. He knew his friend had the best intentions but back then he was just so meek and didn't really know how to impose himself just yet.

Unlike Charles, who was born knowing.

So while Jack offered the much important emotional support and the shoulder Anne desperately needed to lean on, Charles kept her physically safe from the other kids.

And after they left the orphanage and got her out, he became her coach. Teaching her how to survive in the streets, how to fire a gun, how to ride the motorcycle. Even how to smoke. Their bond is surely much stronger in this life than it was in the past.

To this day, whenever Anne doesn't know how to react in a particular situation, her first instinct is to look over at him, meeting his eyes in a silent request for his aid. Thanks to everything they lived together and everything he taught her.

After 20 years of living with her, he can probably say he'd do anything to keep Anne safe and well, just like he'd do anything to protect Eleanor. These two are far too important to him and he  _doesn't want_  their biggest secrets exposed.

So he narrows his eyes in warning, his tone cold when he speaks.

"She had her own personal reasons. Reasons that are none of your concern."

Teach raises his eyebrows at the sudden hostility and decides to let this go, sighing heavily while his nephew continued.

"All the devotion was gone after that. Lost. We ended up having an encounter with Rogers in the middle of the night. A fight ensued, and this time I won. Knocked the bastard out right before Eleanor's eyes and she didn't give a damn about his well being. I put him in a coma. We left LA, and shortly after we got settled in Nassau, she bought the Ranger."

His uncle frowns and he smirks, feeling his heart swell with affection. "She said she wanted to repair what she did."

By now, Teach looks even more tired and defeated. No doubt from having all his hopes crushed, realizing that Charles' feelings for Eleanor are now stronger than they ever were before.

There's a heavy silence, both men staring down at the papers on the desk.

"I was hoping I could talk some sense into that stubborn head of yours, but now I see it would be useless to try. You are, once again, under her spell."

"She is loyal to me now, I have her trust. She has proven, time after time, that she won't leave my side. Things have changed drastically between us. We may still fight, a lot, but I  _know_  that there are no chances of a betrayal now. She's not going anywhere. And you better start getting used to that." He sees the way his uncle's jaw clenches, frustration written all over his face, and another thought comes to his mind. "And don't even  _think_  about asking me to choose between you or her. I'm sure you already know, from experience, how that story ends."

The giant scoffs, a sour, sarcastic half smile on his lips as he meets his nephew's eyes.

"As do you."

"She's different now."

"You  _think_  she's different. How is it possible that you forgot the lesson she taught you? That woman is a  _snake_ , Charles. She can never change. A curse that was cast on your soul, it seems."

"She is  _not_  a curse."

Noticing his temper was beginning to flare, Teach decides to change the subject, rubbing his forehead for a moment before speaking again.

"I was thinking you wouldn't show up. What made you leave the comfort of your plaything's arms?"

Charles hesitates, eyes darkening a bit at the way his uncle has referred to Eleanor. The very same thing Anne says from times to times and hell, it always makes him  _livid_.

But he gets his anger under control.

After all this is the moment he's been longing for, all those years.

"Growing up... There were so many questions that simply refused to leave me alone. Questions that only you have the answer to. There's... stuff I need to know."

The icy blue eyes soften a little, some of the previous sympathy returning to them.

With a heavy sigh, Teach leans back in his seat, his right hand going to one of the shelves of the desk.

"What is it you wish to know?"

"My mother." He has some trouble saying it, posture stiffening. Doing his best to put on a cold, emotionless mask, Charles continues with his requests. "Did she even want me? What was it like when I was born, when she died... Did you  _really_  do everything you possibly could before dumping me in that hellhole like a bundle of garbage?"

Resentment is still clear as day in his voice. It brings an indignant scowl to his uncle's face.

"You forgave her for  _hanging_  you and you can't forgive me for trying to keep you safe? "

"Who said I forgave her?"

_I probably never will._

Charles knows he can't say that out loud.

Eleanor is right, Teach will use anything he can to try and tear them apart. And the knowledge that there was no forgiveness was already enough to bring that hopeful glint back to his eyes.

But he doesn't try to get Charles to talk more. A couple of seconds pass until he lets out a sigh and begins to speak.

"Your mother... Loved you with her whole heart, long before you were even born... Let's start from the beginning, shall we?"

Charles' lips are a tight line as he raises his chin, features still a cold mask.

"Your mother and I were born in Ireland. Naomi was a bright one, beautiful, headstrong, with a knack for escaping complicated situations. Our parents, your grandfather and grandmother, loved their little girl to death. However, they never really cared much for me. Though to be fair, I was always distant, never approaching them. But Naomi and I, we had a really deep bond. She was my whole world. The center of my universe." He needs to pause, taking a deep breath to try and soothe the pain of remembering his dead sister. "We were really poor. I was watching her starve, and whenever she fell sick... Whenever we were unable to buy her medicine, or clothes, or even food... I felt so impotent. Every winter, when I saw her trembling from the cold... I knew I had to do something. So when I saw an opportunity, I took it. I knew it was a dangerous path. But the black market sounded promising enough. After meeting a certain group, I decided to leave Ireland. And your mother chose to follow me wherever I went. We ended up in Havana. At first, it seemed perfectly safe. We had a roof over our heads, food, clothes. In hiding, we were safe from the government. It was no big deal, initially. Me and the group I met, we only got clothing and other meaningless stuff through Cuba's iron curtain. But soon our activities started to become shadier and next thing I knew, we were involved in organ trade."

Charles scowls at his words. So that explains why he made so many enemies.

"I didn't want that life, didn't want your mother near something so horrible. When she got pregnant, I was livid. I didn't want you at all. She was only 15. But as the pregnancy progressed, I started to be plagued by strange dreams and ended up... meeting a medium. She helped me remember who I was and told me that the child my sister was carrying was someone from my past coming back, so I could have the chance to take care of him again. Of course, I instantly knew it was you. And from that day on, I accepted Naomi's pregnancy, I did my very best to keep the two of you well. I detached myself from that group and went back to trafficking clothing, on my own. And they didn't like that." He pauses, sighing heavily with sorrowful eyes. "I believe you know the rest of that story."

Charles lowers his eyes, understanding it was too hard for him to talk about Naomi's death.

He probably blames himself to this day.

"But know this... Your mother fought tooth and nail for you, since the moment she found out. She wasn't scared. She stood up to me, to your father, and insisted on keeping you. She  _loved_  you, and she wanted you more than anything."

His jaw clenches and he swallows hard, trying his best to keep the emotionless mask in place. But his eyes are probably shining with emotion and Charles  _knows_  it.

But can anyone blame him for that? Those words, that knowledge, was everything he wanted the most while growing up in the orphanage. To know that he was wanted, that he was loved so much...

_If only he knew all that, back when he was stuck in that hellhole._

The warmth that filled his heart is soon replaced by hatred when he thinks about something his uncle just said.

"You mentioned my father."

He notices the way Teach's eyes darken too, satisfied to see that he shares the sentiment.

"Lorenzo. A waste of human space. I don't know what your mother saw in him. He was around 5 years older than her, to this day I don't know if he was born in Cuba or not. And he did not hesitate one second to abandon her and you. Just like he abandoned the little one later on, in truth."

_Was that a hint of affection in his voice, when he spoke about Davina?_

"My sister is traumatized. Thanks to that bastard, she has been through hell."

Knowing him too well, Teach lets out a brief, dry chuckle.

"You want to find him and make him pay."

Charles' silence is the only confirmation he needs and a dark smirk tugs at his lips. "I tried tracking him so many times. And four years ago, I succeeded. He was in South America, and soon traveled to Asia. I was waiting to see if he would come closer to my domain so I could attack, but then... He just vanished."

Charles clenches his jaw, frustration written all over his face.

He just wants that bastard's blood.

"We won't stop. He's out there somewhere, we'll find him sooner or later."

He forces a nod, watching as his uncle finally opened that shelf and pulled out a photograph. The giant hesitates before setting it on the desk's surface and sliding it over to Charles.

His heart skips a beat as his own eyes stare back at him.

The infant's toothless smile, the dark hair, the birthmark around his neck...

His eyes remain glued to the old photograph. He doesn't get to see the loving, nostalgic smile on his uncle's lips.

"You were smiling a lot that day. It was a rare occurrence. I had to take pictures."

He barely listens to those words, mind still processing what just happened.

To know what he looked like as a child was never something Charles cared much about. He couldn't have that in this life, much less in the previous one, of course, and in truth, he never really thought about it. Until one of his first nights visiting Eleanor's room in the mansion, back when they didn't have their memories yet.

She had a picture resting on one of her bedside tables, of her 6 year old self.

The picture showed that beautiful, blonde little girl, smiling brightly while playing on a swing, with her frilly dress. She told him Scott took that picture during one of their trips to the park and it was special to her because she looked just so happy. So she kept it.

It made him wonder what he looked like as a child, as a baby.

And now he knows.

A smirk tugs at his lips. Scott probably has countless albums filled with Eleanor's pictures of when she was nothing but a bossy little toddler and a strong-willed kid.

_He really needs to see those._

"You have no idea how it felt." His uncle's voice brings him back from his thoughts and he finally looks up from the photograph. "Suddenly finding myself alone in the world, with a newborn. I admit it was the scariest experience I ever faced in my two lifetimes. There was so much to take care of. Formula, diapers, clothes... It seemed that once I thought I was adapting, new problems appeared. I had no idea that such a tiny human being could bring so much trouble with him... Everything was a challenge. From the moment you woke up to the moment you went back to sleep. Feeding... At first you refused the bottle. You just wanted your mother's breast but that was impossible of course. You spent three days giving me a hard time before finally accepting that damn bottle."

So his stubbornness comes from way back.

Fighting against the urge to smirk, Charles does his best to ignore the slight discomfort beginning to rise in his chest. He has noticed that he can only spend a certain amount of time with his uncle before starting to feel uncomfortable, craving Eleanor's arms. Maybe because connecting with his past and facing his oldest demons takes a huge toll on him. Or his pent-up resentment for Teach is stronger than he previously thought.

But still, he wants to hear more.

"You fussed a lot. Not crying, you acted... angry. To this day, I still wonder if you felt resentment towards me, thinking that I took you away from the warmth of Naomi's arms. You only calmed down once we were aboard that ship, in the open sea. But then... Bedtime was hell. During our journey to the US, there was no crib, no bassinet, nothing. You had to sleep in the bed with me. I couldn't keep my eyes closed for more than 5 minutes, scared I would move in my sleep and end up crushing you. There was no rest. No break. I kept waking up to make sure you were breathing properly. I often heard about newborns who died in their sleep, and just to think that the same thing could happen to you..."

The giant lowers his eyes, shaking his head briefly, seeming to gather his courage before looking at his nephew's face again, eyes filled with emotion.

"The constant, sometimes absurd worry... The love, the fear mixed with the urge to do my very best... During that time, I learned  _exactly_ what it felt like to be a parent. And for that... I must thank you."

It's his turn to avert his eyes. Charles stares down at the old photograph again.

The little orphan that still lives in the most isolated corners of his soul is crying tears of happiness and relief, basking in this comfort, the closest thing to a father he has ever had.

All he longed for, for all those years. And yet, he knows that if it comes down to it, he would choose staying with his queen and keeping her safe over this newfound warmth.

He would choose her in a heartbeat.

_Speaking of her..._

"Keep the picture. I have several others." Teach says, knowing him too well and seeing in his eyes that he has had enough and is about to bring his walls back up for the moment.

Charles hesitates, but nods anyway and puts his baby picture in the pocket of his jacket before wordlessly getting to his feet and leaving the office.

* * *

He remains lost in thought during the entirety of the walk back to his and Eleanor's chambers. The picture feels like a huge weight in his pocket as he finally reaches those two doors, satisfied to see that the Somali pirate was still guarding the room that held his most valuable treasure, just as he requested.

The door in front of theirs is closed too and he hears nothing but silence coming from Jack and Anne's room. No surprise, it's really late and they have probably been asleep for hours.

A heavy sigh escapes him as Charles closes the door behind him and leans against it for a brief moment. He can see that the canopy is still closed, which means Eleanor is probably still asleep.

He doesn't know if that makes him sad or relieved.

Recent events taking a toll on him, Charles lets his eyes fall closed, jaw clenching only slightly as his mind refuses to slow down.

_But that voice, that perfect, sleepy voice..._

It's already enough to make part of the stress evaporate in the blink of an eye.

"How did it go?"

He barely hears it. A smile tugs at his lips and he leaves his spot by the door, closing the distance to the bed as Eleanor pulled the canopy open, revealing her gorgeous, still naked body, only partially covered by the blanket.

"Did I wake you up?" He avoids the question and she shakes her head, covering her mouth with one hand as a yawn escapes. It's freaking adorable.

"You know I can rarely sleep for too long once you leave."

"Nightmares?"

"No... Just woke up missing my favorite pillow."

He smirks fully at that, letting her pull him down to the mattress beside her. Soft, naked skin meets leather and jeans as he holds her close. His eyes squeeze shut while he breathes in the soothing scent of her hair.

"Did you get the answers you wanted?"

She's simply not willing to let this go, is she?

"How did you know I went seeking answers?"

Vaguely, Charles notices they're whispering instead of talking normally, but his brain barely acknowledges this.

Her hands move to the collar of his jacket and she pulls away briefly to meet his eyes, shrugging with a barely noticeable smile on her lips.

"I just know you."

Indeed she does. Better than anyone.

_Just as he knows her._

Charles considers her for a moment before pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"You do. And yes. I got the answers."

God, he prays she won't try prying into his business any further, asking him how he feels about that... Even if her intentions are good, he'd probably react badly and the last thing he wants right now is to fight with her.

But she does know him well enough, and the question that leaves her lips makes him chuckle briefly instead of snapping and pushing her away.

"Why are we whispering like this?"

Unable to stop smirking, he brushes a stray lock of blonde hair behind her ear, his hand lingering on her chin.

"I was hoping you'd know the answer."

A quiet chuckle escapes her as she traces his jawline with her fingers, her free hand going behind his neck and tangling in his hair.

"I like it when you whisper."

"Do you now?"

"Yeah."

Charles kisses her neck, pushing his left leg between her thighs. Goosebumps erupt all over her arms as he whispers in her ear. "And why is that?"

Her sharp intake of breath sends a shiver down his own spine and he pulls her impossibly closer.

"Because it does sinful things to me."

If there's something he's loving about their life together in this new world, it's her newfound honesty when it comes to them.

She's eager to make the most of their second chance at their love, and he couldn't be happier about it.

With a brief kiss to her lips, he allows himself to stare lovingly into her eyes for a few precious moments, caressing her cheek in a revering manner. Her hand covers his and she can't contain her soft smile, blue-green eyes shining with only partially veiled devotion.

Charles can feel her eyes on him when he pulls away and gets to his feet before walking over to the dresser and shrugging off his leather jacket.

Suddenly remembering the picture, he pauses and reaches into the pocket, momentarily forgetting about Eleanor's presence until...

"What's that?"

Looking at her over his shoulder, he's careful to keep the photograph out of her sight.

"A picture he took..."

Her eyes light up and he immediately regrets his words.

"Charles. You better be honest... Is that a baby picture of you?" His silence confirms her suspicions and then she leaps out of bed with a wide smile. "Let me see that!"

He offers her a menacing glare.

And of course it does absolutely  _nothing_  to intimidate her.

Instead, frustration fills her face as she tries to reach behind his back for the damned picture over and over again, never succeeding. Soon, she decides not to humiliate herself any further and raises her chin.

It's incredible how she's able to keep her imposing nature even when she's completely naked, her hair a mess...

It's  _cute_.

"If you don't give me that picture right now, I swear I won't let you touch me for a month!"

He scoffs at that. "Please. As if you'd be able to keep that promise."

"Is that a challenge? Remember I managed to resist you for a much longer time, three centuries ago."

She has a point.

Who is he trying to fool, whenever they have an argument, she wins.

With a clench of his jaw, he practically shoves the picture into her hands before storming over to the bed, pulling his shirt over his head in the process.

"You had  _dimples_." The roll of his eyes is automatic as she walks to the bed and sits on the mattress too, unable to stop smiling. He has to admit the happy glint in her eyes is almost worth this humiliation.  _Almost_. "Where the  _fuck_  did they go?"

"Satisfied now?"

Finally looking up from the picture, she nods her head. "Much. Now my curiosity is sated."

His eyes narrow at that. "You were curious to know what I looked like as a baby... May I ask why?"

It was an innocent question, but Charles can't believe his own eyes as she  _blushes,_  clearing her throat and trying to regain her composure.

"Remember that uh... pregnancy scare I had, back when our memories returned and we weren't on good terms? I told you about it."

It hits him them and he immediately regrets asking that question.

"I admit that... Despite my initial fear and strong denial, deep down a tiny part of myself was wondering what face that child would have. I had my baby pictures, but no idea what you looked like as one. Now I know."

He wasn't expecting that one at all.

There's a heavy silence after her words, and it's uncomfortable as hell. Of course, the only way out they both see is to ignore this completely.

So minutes later when Eleanor is nestled against his side, hand resting over his heart while he absentmindedly caressed her shoulder, it's as if that awkward situation never even happened at all.

"When do you think he's going to let us go?"

Charles easily detects the apprehension in her voice, staring up at the cold stone ceiling.

_How he misses the wooden one from their beloved ship..._

"There's no way to tell. But however long it takes... We'll be just fine."

For some reason, for the first time they're both actually able to believe those words. Even if tomorrow this short peace will have probably vanished, for this moment they allow themselves to relax for the first time since they stepped foot in this place.

And it's enough to let them fall into a peaceful sleep in each other's arms.


	15. Waves and Confessions

"I had no idea they could surf."

Jack looks away from the sea, offering the blonde sitting on the sand beside him a soft smile as she speaks again, a hint of indignation in her tone.

"Charles never told me."

He looks at the ocean again, heart skipping a beat when Anne rides a particularly big wave with her surfboard.

No matter how many times he sees her doing this, he'll always be a little bit concerned.

"They've been giving me hell for years. At first I used to be out of my mind with worry. But after years of their drinking, smoking, recklessness with the motorcycle and the cars, I suppose surfing turned out to be the most harmless hobby of theirs."

Eleanor lets out a soft scoff of disapproval, concern written all over her face while she watches her own criminal disappear behind one of the waves momentarily.

"We need to tame them, even if it's just a little... They could end up getting themselves killed one of these days."

Jack actually laughs at her words, shaking his head.

"Good luck. I've been trying for two decades, not counting our previous lives, and never succeeded."

A smug smirk tugs at Eleanor's lips when he meets her eyes.

"Well, I'm here now."

"After you managed to convince Charles to start using conditioner, I don't doubt anything."

Her melodious laugh brings a smile to his face too, and he just prays Anne is too distracted with the waves, so she won't see them getting along this well.

"And his hair looks great now, doesn't it?"

"How in the world did you achieve this feat?"

Her smug smirk only widens and she shrugs, casting a glance towards the sea.

"Oh, I simply threatened to swear off sex for an undefined period of time... It  _always_  works."

Jack chuckles, his suspicions confirmed.

"Somehow, I knew it was something like that. That's cruel, darling. Probably worse than the noose itself for him."

"And that's  _exactly_  why I take full advantage of it."

He mutters a "smart girl" and looks over at Anne just in time to see her rolling her eyes at them before focusing back on the waves, sitting on her surfboard. He grimaces briefly, eyes returning to Eleanor's face when she speaks.

"By the way... I've been wondering since our journey on the Walrus... How did you manage to make Anne wear a dress and go to the formal night?"

His features soften instantly, a loving smile tugging at his lips.

His little brute better never find out he's telling Eleanor about  _this_.

"You see, she has a... certain addiction. Back when... that  _monster_  violated her, he used to hit her back and make it really sore. She has no scars in this life, but all that trauma... She was plagued with pain back at the orphanage. Often waking up in the middle of the night, crying as if her uncle was hitting her again. It took her a while to open up and tell me about this issue... And even more time to let me help her."

Eleanor's face is filled with sympathy by now, her heart actually clenching for Anne. And fluttering as she see the way Jack's eyes shine with emotion as he recalls those days.

"I really wanted to help her. So I talked to one of the few staff members who was actually gentle with the kids. I knew she used to be a professional massagist. And she agreed to teach me. So ever since Anne was eight years old, I have been massaging her back every night before she goes to sleep. The pains have long since left her alone, but we have an unspoken agreement and I never lost that habit. She can't sleep too well without this. Even when she used to kick me out of our room back at the hideout for weeks on end, she still wanted her bedtime massages. So that night on the Walrus, that's what I used to convince her. Even though I admit, I would have never actually been able to take this comfort from her. But it worked anyway."

Eleanor frowns in silent disbelief, eyes moving to the hardened redhead for a second.

"I would have never thought it was something like that."

With a loving half smile, Jack nods in the direction of his partner.

"That one's not always as tough and closed up as she wants everyone to believe she is. She has her moments."

Affection flickers in Eleanor's eyes as she looks over at Charles.

"Yet another thing these two have in common."

An amused look comes to Jack's face as he nods his agreement.

"Before our memories came back, I used to wonder, how the hell they didn't end up together. Everyone who saw them whenever they went out with the motorcycle at night, dressed in black leather and looking all menacing... People immediately assumed they were a couple. I was actually jealous at first, you know. Once we were free from the orphanage, she never left his side; he was sort of her tutor. Teaching her everything she wanted to know, all those habits I disapproved of. You should have seen them a few years ago. Once Anne wasn't a child anymore, she started to go enjoy the nightlife with him. Every weekend, these two idiots would come back to the hideout completely drunk, stumbling on their own feet. I felt like a father reprimanding two teenagers."

Eleanor laughs briefly, entranced by the sight of her lover effortlessly riding a huge wave. The sun catches on his wet, tanned skin; the muscles of his abdomen have her full attention for a moment before she regains her composure and clears her throat. Jack notices but thankfully doesn't tease her about it, opting for a playful question instead.

"Where were you back then? I really needed reinforcements."

She thinks for a few seconds, letting out a brief sigh.

"Probably starting to manage the Company with my father, drowning in guilt and self-hatred without even knowing why, cutting like crazy and starting to let Max guide me out of the closet."

He sees the way her eyes widen for a second when she realizes what she just did. And he's unable to keep himself from addressing it.

"So you actually are a self-harmer."

She lowers her eyes to the sand, to the purple nylon shorts covering her scars. Her stomach is exposed, her birthmark in plain view and her chest covered by a bikini top that matches the color of her shorts.

"You knew?"

Jack shrugs, choosing his words carefully so she won't bring her walls up. He's enjoying their easy friendship, it's one of the highlights of his days.

_Who would've ever known._

"I had my suspicions. That morning when we went inside your and Charles' cabin, the blanket wasn't fully covering your left thigh. I saw one of the scars. And I remember Charles got drunk after that weekend he disappeared on us and Mary. He mentioned that... you got hurt. But he didn't say how. He was so disturbed though, that I simply knew there was more to that story. The idea crossed my mind. I always knew self-harm is a common habit for those who deal with self-hatred. So when I saw that scar, my suspicions were somewhat confirmed."

She nods slightly, averting her eyes to the ocean. Charles and Anne were celebrating the last wave, the biggest one up to the moment. The smiles on their faces as they met each other's eyes were so pure and genuine; it made them look younger and much less hardened.

Both Jack and Eleanor have to appreciate the rare sight.

"By the way... Out of curiosity, how long did your relationship with Max last this time?"

She stops to think about it for a moment, an easy smile tugging at her lips.

"We were 17 when we met, and when it started. It went on for maybe 4 years. Then 2 years later, well,  _he_ found me."

A soft frown comes to her face, as if she's suddenly realizing something.

"Jack, I really need to thank you. If it wasn't for you..."

Understanding what she was talking about, he shakes his head dismissively.

"I believe the two of you would have found each other sooner or later, with or without that stupid little challenge."

"Still. You don't know how bad I was. I just couldn't take it anymore. And besides... If it wasn't for Charles turning my life upside down, I have no idea how I would've reacted to Woodes' advances. He arrived in my life again at the same time I was reunited with that... monster I once called my husband. If it wasn't for you and your 'stupid little challenge', I could have ended up married to Woodes all over again. So thank you so much. Thank you for giving him back to me, and at the time I needed him the most."

He notices how hard it was for her to say those words, appreciating her efforts tremendously.

With a crooked smirk, he reaches to pat her hand, resting on the warm sand.

"You're quite welcome. Just make sure to take good care of him this time. That reckless imbecile is far too important to me."

She pretends to think for a moment then offers him a half smirk. "Can I still hit him from times to times?"

"By all means." Jack laughs, nodding his head once and winking an eye at her. "Do it for the both of us, please."

The bright smile on Eleanor's face soon fades away and he frowns, somehow knowing exactly what was the source of her discomfort.

"You must know... I will not think any less of you because of the self-harming habits."

She shakes her head and lowers her eyes to the sand for a moment. "I don't like people to know about it. Makes me feel weak and that is unacceptable."

Jack scowls at her words and gestures towards the two surfers. "What makes it different from the times these two idiots go off punching any walls they can find?"

Satisfied to see that a little smile came to Eleanor's face, he continues.

"It's just like any other ways people use to let their pain or anger out. I will not see you in a different light. And also, I don't believe it's a sign of weakness. Much to the contrary."

She lets out a sigh, her eyes finding her lover and lingering on him for a few seconds.

"Charles said the same thing."

"He has his rare moments, when he's smart."

She has to chuckle at that, meeting his eyes again. "You two are just like brothers, aren't you?"

"Growing up... He was my first friend. Always there, we were inseparable. And even in the past... I can't describe the way I felt when I learned about... his demise."

She swallows hard, immediately ducking her head. But he still catches the tears glinting in her eyes.

"Would you believe me if I told you... That I regretted it right after it happened? While I was still standing there, staring at his corpse. I didn't acknowledge it of course, but deep down... I already regretted everything I did to him so deeply."

Jack's eyes soften. He notices their two beasts are coming back from the ocean.

"I know. Despite my hatred, unlike Anne, I always knew you had a heart..." He lowers his voice, saying the rest quickly as the two surfers were about to reach them. "An ice cold one, but a heart nonetheless."

Eleanor only has time to offer him a warm, sincere half smile before their focus travels to Charles and Anne... and the small trail of blood they were leaving on the sand.

Instantly alarmed, they both try to find the source of it and soon realize their two savages had cuts on their feet.

Eleanor is immediately angry.

"What the fuck?"

Charles actually gives her a taunting smirk, shrugging briefly.

"Coral reefs."

Rolling her eyes at the short answer, she watches as Jack sighs and gets to his feet before starting to lead Anne back towards the building behind them.

"You are going to let me take care of that wound, come on."

The redhead scoffs but shows no other protests, while Eleanor raises an eyebrow at Charles, disapproval written all over her face as she gets to her feet too.

"And so are you."

She tries to turn around and go back underground to their private chambers, but his fingers wrap around her wrist and next thing she knows, he has her pressed against his body, arms closing around her middle.

The surfboard lays forgotten on the sand and he has that look in his eyes. That teasing look, mixed with amusement and the most profound devotion.

Eleanor is frozen, staring into his eyes. Only when he begins to walk them back to the ocean she snaps out of her trance, hitting his chest. But he shows no sign of letting her go and when the water is reaching to her mid-thigh she gives up, scoffing and narrowing her eyes at the triumphant half smirk that comes to his lips.

When she realizes it, they are already in deeper waters, where the waves don't break. His arms are still around her and the gentle rise and fall makes her sigh in satisfaction, remembering the many nights they have shared aboard their beloved ship.

Resting her cheek against his shoulder, she closes her eyes, her own arms going around him too.

"That night when you guys went to dump Albinus' body in the ocean... I went into the water with my ex-husband. He said there was a shark behind me just so I would swim right into his arms." She sighs, not really knowing why she suddenly wanted to tell him about that. "This is so much better."

She feels the clench of his jaw.

"Fucking asshole."

Moments pass and thankfully the atmosphere between them doesn't become heavy. In fact, when Charles speaks again there's a hint of playfulness in his tone.

"Want to know what Anne said to me while we were waiting for the waves?"

She scoffs. "What, the various ways she would like to kill me?"

His deep chuckle puts a smile on her face, his hands moving over her back tenderly.

"Nothing like that, actually. She said ' _gotta hand it to the pest, she's got a nice body_ '."

Her eyes snap open in utter surprise and she raises her head from his shoulder, meeting his amused eyes. He shrugs, arms tightening around her. "Can't say I disagree with her."

For some reason, Eleanor can't contain her bright smile, looking in the direction of the "marine research center". But of course Jack and Anne are nowhere to be seen by now.

With a slight shake of her head, she allows herself to laugh only briefly. "Max needs to hear about that one. It must be the apocalypse arriving."

Charles nods his agreement and presses a gentle kiss to her lips.

"Everything ready to take your sister sailing tomorrow?"

He nods again, eyes lighting up at the thought of finally sailing his ship again. "You're sure you don't want to come?"

Eleanor grimaces, sighing heavily. "I do want to go. But you know I can't. Your uncle would think I put ideas in your head and we were trying to escape with Davina. It's best that I stay. We can sail together some other time, when things are better. But you go, you've been promising to teach her how to steer the ship for a while now. I'll be just fine with Mary and Jack."

He stares into her eyes for a moment before forcing a nod, clearly unhappy with this.

"How's the crew doing? I completely forgot about them."

He lets out a brief chuckle. "They're all mingling just fine with the Somali pirates. Even Keswick is having a good time."

His eyes darken momentarily as he thinks about something.

Her smile drops.

"Eleanor, speaking of the pirates... There's something you should know. They are targeting a cargo ship, it will come closer to Somalia in about two weeks. By that time, they will go out into the open sea to attack... And I am going to lead them."

For a couple of seconds she just stares at his face, thinking he was just messing with her. But as soon as she realizes he's being honest, her eyes fill with anger.

"Absolutely  _not_! You'll be  _asking_  to get yourself killed and I will not allow-"

"I was  _not_  asking for permission."

Annoying despair begins to rise in her chest, her sixth sense telling her that something is going to happen. It's maddening, and she has no idea why but she's worrying far more than she should.

There's a voice in her head, telling her that all her fears, all her bad feelings about something happening to the man she loves will be concretized when  _that_  day comes.

He'll be caught. He'll go to prison.

He'll be  _killed_.

Swallowing hard, she shakes her head. Charles frowns at the tears glinting in her eyes. He clearly wasn't expecting this reaction.

"I can't lose you all over again."

His thumb wipes away the lone tear that escapes against her will.

"You won't."

"But what if-"

" _Hey_." He forces her to meet his eyes again, a wave gently lifting them and bringing then back down. "Are you forgetting I did this countless times in the past? I  _know_  what I'm doing, Eleanor. I want this. I need this, so I will be able to start gaining the respect of the pirates. How long do you think I'll be able to protect you if I don't have that? Those men are dangerous. I need to earn their respect, their loyalty. And this is the only way I can do that."

He's right.

She lets out a shaky breath, doing her very best not to let any more tears out.

"I promise to be careful, alright? You have nothing to worry about. I'll be back by the end of the day, safe and sound. And one step closer to keeping you safe."

She scowls at him, staring into his eyes before moving to kiss his lips.

Her heart feels as if it was just torn to pieces as she pulls away and rests her chin on his shoulder while he moves them even deeper, their feet not touching the seabed anymore. He has his back to the dry land but she's seeing it perfectly and her blood runs cold when she catches sight of her enemy, taking a walk on the beach.

He comes to a stop, of course still wearing that leather coat in the heat of the afternoon, hiding those strange marks. From the distance, she's barely able to make out his face. But she notices he's staring right at them, his features somber.

Her nails dig into the skin of Charles' back possessively and she glares right back at Teach. The kiss she presses to the birthmark around her criminal's neck makes the giant clench his jaw hard, turn on his heels and storm back inside the building, his leather coat fluttering behind him.

In this moment she connects with her younger self from the previous life, a cruel, triumphant half-smirk coming to her lips.

She has always won.

_And she always will._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I blame Lethal Weapon for the whole "surfer Charles" thing.


	16. There Lies the Danger

"Do you have your lifejacket, Davina?"

Mary asks in a slightly apprehensive tone while she and Eleanor walk the gangway. The little girl rolls her eyes in annoyance, much to her older brother's amusement as they stand behind the helm.

Said lifejacket was in the middle of the deck, clearly after someone carelessly tossed it aside.

"It's too heavy and it makes me hot, mama! I don't want it."

Mary narrows her eyes at the child and Eleanor gives Charles a stern glare, silently telling him to cooperate, which he does.

Or that's what she thinks at first.

"Just obey your mother and wear the lifejacket, kid." An easy smile graces his features while he ruffles his sister's hair. "You can take it off once we leave the port."

"Charles!"

That oh so familiar hard look on his queen's face just makes him want to take her down to their cabin right away so they could forget about the rest of the world for a couple of hours. Allowing himself to smile for the briefest moment, he closes the distance to her, pecking her lips, restraining himself due to his sister's presence.

But his hand is squeezing her lower back, a silent, dark promise that he'll be much rougher once night falls and they're alone in their private chambers.

It sends a shiver down her spine and her eyes dance when he pulls away, staring at her face in partially veiled lust.

They're brought back to the here and now when Davina whines and huffs in annoyance. "So gross."

Eleanor lets out a soft chuckle, looking over at the little girl. "Believe me, sweetheart, you won't find it gross in a few years."

There's a barely audible growl from Charles, jealousy shining in his eyes. Looks like the men or women Davina will date in the future will have to be extremely careful if they want to keep their lives.

Regretfully letting go of her, Charles walks back to the helm. Some of the crew is here to help with the ship and Davina is glowing with excitement. They're at the huge covered port near the headquarters, and the Revenge looms majestically just beside their beloved ship.

Eleanor has to admit it's a bit intimidating.

In a matter of minutes, Mary and her are back on the pier, watching as the Ranger sailed out to the open sea. Trying to ignore the stupid fear that comes plague her every time Charles gets out of her sight, Eleanor responds to Mary's half-smile with one of her own.

The dark haired beauty playfully bumps her shoulder against hers.

"So, how about that run on the beach now?"

* * *

"Under no circumstances will I let you follow through with this stupid plan, brother."

The clench of his jaw is automatic as he glares at Mason. Their new "friend" watches the scene in silence, leaning against the wall in the shadows with his arms crossed.

"Don't think just because you're older you still have authority over me. The damned yacht is mine. I am just trying to ensure my wife's safety-"

"She is  _not_  your wife. Just let the girl go. For Christ's sake, Woodes, I already went to Richard Guthrie himself and he made it very clear that his daughter is perfectly safe and happy, she left on her own free will!"

He stares at his brother as if he had grown a second head, pain flickering in his eyes. He just feels betrayed.

And highly outraged.

"That savage must have threatened him. Richard's either lying, or he's been made to believe she's safe, while she's not. Can't you see? She needs me." His eyes drop to his phone, the screen displaying a picture that is almost enough to bring tears to his eyes. His beautiful wife, her perfect hair blowing in the wind while she looked straight at the camera, a surprised smile on her lips. Pearly white teeth glinting in the night, her eyes so pure and light...

He still remembers that night so tenderly. It was right after one of their dinner dates, when she requested that he took her to see the ocean. They were walking on a pier and he just couldn't resist. She looked like an angel; he had to point his phone at her distracted face, squeezing her shoulder to get her attention. And as soon as she looked at the camera, he took this precious picture.

Such happier times... The night in question happened a few weeks after that afternoon when Eleanor ran to his office, completely desperate, and threw herself into his arms. He was taken aback to say the least. Not even a couple of hours before that she had looked into his eyes at her father's mansion and told him to go fuck himself, after that little trick with young Abigail's phone. She ran straight to her criminal lover afterwards, he's sure, but then... Then she showed up at his office, kissing him as if her life depended on it, tears of despair flowing nonstop as she kept apologizing...

_"I'm sorry I pushed you away, I... remember everything now. I'm so sorry..."_

Back then, the words didn't make any sense to him. But today he knows.

That was the day Eleanor recovered her memories.

She was so lost, so broken, no doubt disgusted with herself because she let herself be seduced by that filthy animal again; clueless about who he was... She was so  _scared_ , all alone in this new world, probably still suffering to remember her death and the loss of their little baby...

And he was absolutely clueless about all that. He was unable to offer his wife the comfort she so desperately needed.

But it wasn't his fault, was it? He didn't have his memories back then.

His head hurts when he tries to think about the events that followed after he finally found out about the past.

A betrayal... His wife pressing a rock to the wound on his cheek, keeping him from hitting the pirate...?

_No._

There's a shift in his mind and he needs to bring one hand to his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut. It feels as if several small needles are piercing his brain...

His jaw clenches as he remembers what really happened that fateful night once more.

He ambushed Charles in front of the Demeter. He had her with him. His wife, his sweet wife, had tears streaming down her face, and she kept calling for help. The fight that ensued was brutal, and at one point that brutish piece of filth pushed Eleanor to the ground, he remembers her perfect face bleeding... Everything is a blur after that. The last thing he remembers is Charles forcing his sweet blonde angel to kiss him, and she was so terrified. After that, the kicks knocked him out and he woke up months later in the hospital...

And there was no sign of Eleanor.

The familiar despair rises in his chest but he fights back. His jewel needs him, and he won't fail her.

Failing to see the scornful look Ned had on his face as he stared at Eleanor's picture one last time, Woodes finally meets his brother's eyes again.

Mason is shaking his head in disapproval.

"I already told you, we will find Charles and he will pay. We don't even know whether Eleanor is still with him or not, but in case she is, she will need to respond too. Living with a wanted criminal for months, I'm sure she has a few offenses to take responsibility for as well-"

"It's  _not_ her fault!"

Mason clenches his jaw hard, patience clearly running out.

"Instead of sinking deeper and deeper into your hallucinations, how about you try to focus on what's truly important? You have a  _son_  now, brother. A son who needs you here in LA. Not in the middle of the ocean chasing after a woman who doesn't give a damn about you anymore."

Woodes scoffs instantly, a warning-filled look coming to his face.

"Don't you  _dare_  bringing Aiden into this. You have seen with your own eyes, how hard I tried. The boy refuses to let me hold him, why should I leave my wife suffering in the hands of that monster, all for a child who doesn't even recognize me as his father?"

Mason opens his mouth to speak but then there's a knock on the door and they hear Utley's muffled voice from the other side.

"Sir? Someone called from the police station. They said it's urgent."

The older sibling hesitates before sighing heavily, knowing his duty comes first.

"We are far from done with this conversation, Woodes." He grabs his coat, stopping to give Ned a glare. "Be sure to at least keep that wild dog of yours on a tight leash, please."

Ned's only reply is a crooked, sarcastic smirk.

As soon as they're alone, the psycho pushes away from the wall, walking closer to his new boss' desk.

"No offense, friend, but I don't think that clueless brother of yours will be any help to us."

Woodes shakes his head, still staring at the door.

"It's utterly frustrating. Having my brother again after all those years... Only for  _this_." He bangs his fist against the surface of the desk, jaw clenched hard. "He thinks I have gone insane."

Trying not to lose all his patience, Ned shrugs. "Welcome to the real world. Not everything happens the way you want. Now, you can stay here whining about your dear brother if that's what you wish. Just keep in mind that while you're at it, your Eleanor is going through hell in that pirate's hands. Is that what you want for her?"

His eyes change immediately and he straightens up again, that determined look returning to his face. "You said you talked to Charles in the past, you said you spent some time with him. Therefore, you must know him a lot better than I. Do you think there's any chances that he might... be forcing himself on my wife? Touching her against her will?"

_No. Not at all._

Ned doesn't say the words out loud, pretending to think for a moment then forcing a grimace.

"I'm not certain about the depth of his respect for her, to be honest. But what I do know is... that he's a man not to be crossed. And after what your wife did to him..." He shrugs, a somber look on his face as he shakes his head. "...I'm afraid he'd want to hurt her in the worst way possible. And what could possibly do more harm to a woman's mind and body than raping her?"

Woodes squeezes his eyes shut at the last two words, his right fist clenching on the surface of the desk. Surprisingly, tears glint in his eyes for the briefest second when he opens them again, letting out a shaky breath.

"But in case it comforts you... I wouldn't worry about him killing her. I don't think Charles would be capable of that."

He nods at Ned's words, darkness returning to his eyes. "She's in profound pain. I can  _feel_  it."

"Well then, we have no time to waste. Before anything else, we need to find out more about the situation. See if we're right about where he took her so we won't go on a wild goose chase, while we could be following the right trail."

"How do we do that, exactly?"

"Getting the needed answers from someone who's close to your kidnapped bride."

Woodes thinks for a moment.

A barely noticeable smirk tugs at the left corner of his lips, the scar twitching up.

"I know just the right person."

* * *

They finally give in and come to a stop, sweat trailing down their necks and pretty much the rest of their bodies.

And to think Eleanor used to complain that LA was too hot whenever she went out for a run. It was nothing compared to this. It's crazy, the days are so hot but during the nights Charles and her actually need a blanket or two to sleep.

Speaking of him, there's a pang in her heart and her eyes search the ocean eagerly. Sure enough, the Ranger is still perfectly visible; he promised they wouldn't go too far.

Fuck, if she's already this uncomfortable right now, what will it be like when she's forced to watch him leave to the open sea to go hunt that cargo ship with the rest of the pirates?

A wave of anger overcomes her as Mary opens the bottle of water she brought.

Why does Teach always have to cause her problems?

_She just hopes his death was a painful one._

Staring at the ship in the distance, both women catch their breath and share the bottle of water between them. Mary meets her eyes and she knows there's a question coming.

"Can I ask you something? About you and Teach."

Eleanor's grimace is immediate and she takes a big gulp of water before handing the bottle back to the other woman.

"Will you still ask if I say 'no'?"

She chuckles and checks if her hair was still completely tied back, taking a drink of the water before speaking again.

"This grudge he holds against you... It seems very deep. Old. And from the looks of it, you don't like him too much either. I'd like to know how's that possible, considering that this is the first contact you have with him. I can't help but... Feel as if there's a whole other story buried here, a  _lot_  more than what I know."

_That's because there is._

Eleanor sighs, eyes finding the ship again. She could swear Davina's excited laughter could be heard all the way from here, but that's probably just her imagination.

"I have a good reason not to like him. He left Charles all alone in that place, where he went through so much... Even if it was to keep him safe, I can't help but wonder if that was truly the only way out. I mean, he could have left Charles on the doorstep of a loving family who would care for him properly... As for his grudge against me... It must come from the fact that I ruined everything he's been planning for the past three decades. He always had in mind, that one day Charles would come to him and rule over this place by his side, as his son, his heir. The prince of this kingdom. And that's probably what would have happened... But then I came along and became his top priority. If he had to choose between me or this empire, he'd pick  _me_  in the blink of an eye, and Teach is well aware of that. That's probably the reason why that selfish imbecile doesn't like me."

Mary raises her eyebrows at her braveness, taking a quick look around to make sure no one was around to hear Eleanor talk about the king in such a way, while she's in his domain. Thankfully, the beach was empty aside from them.

An amused glint comes to the dark moss green eyes. "You really don't like Teach in the slightest, do you?"

Eleanor shakes her head vehemently, disgust clear as day in her eyes. "No. I truly don't."

The blonde supposes she did well enough at coming up with those quick lies. Well, not actually lies if she stopped to think about it. She still hates Teach for not fighting harder 30 years ago and leaving Charles in that horrible place, while she's sure the giant is also livid that she ruined all his plans of having his nephew by his side.  _Again_.

But their grudge goes beyond all that, and she guesses she did a good job at hiding this fact from Mary. Hopefully, she'll just let this go now.

The older woman sighs at her side. "You're probably right... I still feel as if there's something else, though."

Or maybe not.

Shrugging, Eleanor takes one last glance at the ship and a wicked smirk tugs at her lips when she meets Mary's eyes again. "Enough of that. Care to see who makes it back to the other end of the beach faster?"

She's already running again before Mary gets the chance to reply. Eyes widening slightly in brief surprise, she takes off too, shaking her head and calling out to Eleanor.

"And here I thought I was going to humiliate you, since I'm used to running on the sand! Thought you were weak, heiress! I should have known better; it does take a  _lot_  of stamina to keep up with Charles every night!"

Eleanor's laughter sounds like chiming bells trailing off in the wind.

* * *

"You're just so handsome."

Her tired, slow voice makes his eyes snap open and he stares at her face in utter surprise and disbelief, knowing he probably heard it wrong, or it was nothing but a hallucination.

They're still catching their breath, the canopy isolating the bed from the rest of the cave-like room. The sated look on Eleanor's face is a soothing balm to his heart, as always, and he can't believe what she just said.

"You never said that before."

She shrugs, brief annoyance flashing through her eyes. The words probably escaped against her will as she stared at his face, laying on her side next to him. And the last thing she wants is that he keeps talking about this.

"Well, you are." She mumbles, moving closer and burying her face in his neck, fingers finding the anchor pendant.

A smile tugs at his lips, his eyes raking over her naked body as she moves away a few minutes later. Now that the afterglow is passing, she actually rolls her eyes at him.

"What?"

He has to chuckle briefly at her adorable irritation.

"I'm not allowed to admire the most gorgeous woman in the world? Don't you think I deserve it, after all the hell she puts me through every single day?"

Amusement fills her eyes now, and she lets him pull her to his chest again.

"Once night arrives... You never have a word of complaint about my presence."

His eyes glint and he captures her lips with his. Since they're both completely sated the kiss is slow, unhurried, his fingers running through her loose hair. She's been letting it grow, it's reaching almost to her waist now and he loves it. Those blonde waves look even better now that they're more numerous.

When they pull away, she has a somewhat apprehensive look on her face, as if something's bothering her.

"Can you promise me something?" Her voice is strangely hesitant as she runs her fingers over his jawline, a haunted look flickering in her eyes when she speaks again. "You will never, ever ask me to marry you."

He  _has_  to laugh.

With a shake of his head, he holds her closer. "You've been wanting to say that for a while, right?"

She shrugs, sighing deeply. Relief is written all over her face. "I was afraid of how you might react. Since I married... him, but..."

"Actually... I'm glad. This is just more proof that with me, you feel free to be yourself." She frowns at that, meeting his still amused eyes.

"You're not the type who wants marriage and all that shit. Just like me. It's just not for us." Her heart feels so much lighter and she tries hard not smile while he speaks. "With him, you had to do it. You were forced to accept it. With me, you feel free enough to tell me it won't happen. And I will never complain about that."

Eleanor breathes a sigh of relief, finally allowing herself to smile fully at him. A few minutes go by in silence.

"It's funny to look back now. To realize just how much I lied to myself, and to think that back then, I was actually almost starting to believe my own lies."

"When did you realize for real?"

"In the past life... When I was dying. Too late, of course. But this time... It was after Woodes took me as his prisoner. When he slapped me." She shakes her head, sighing heavily as her fingers closed around the string of his necklace. "Poor Utley rushed to my side immediately, even knowing he could get in trouble for that."

She has the impression that Charles stiffens briefly, but assumes it was just her imagination and continues to speak.

"I just hope he's okay. Utley. I liked him."

Charles' voice is dry when he speaks. "So you knew him from before. How well, exactly?"

A frown comes to her face. "Not much... Is that jealousy?"

Her eyes are glinting with amusement and she tries hard to contain her smirk, staring at his face while he glares up at the stone ceiling, refusing to meet her eyes.

"Curiosity, actually."

"I see." She pauses, her smirk almost winning when she continues to tease him. "You know, among all those men, I felt as if... His smile was the only sincere one. He had such a warm, true smile. Unlike all the others, including my ex-husband. It just made me feel better."

"Did something ever happen between..."

She has to laugh at that, interrupting his words and shaking her head.

"No. Nothing. I have to admit though... That I found him very handsome since the first time I saw him."

Charles throws her a murderous glare and she chuckles briefly, pressing a kiss to his birthmark to settle him. Then another, and another.

It works, and she moves impossibly closer, eyes glued to the small anchor resting on his chest.

"Seriously now. He was, and is, a very good man. He didn't look at me with scorn as the others did. I like to think he mourned my death, that he felt it, even if it was just a little."

"I'm sure he did."

With a soft smile, she lets her fingers seek his hair, running them through the long strands.

"How did it go with Davina today? Did she learn anything?"

Eleanor can practically feel the pride emanating from him as soon as she asks the questions.

"She's a natural."

"Well, she  _is_  your sister." Meeting his eyes, she offers him a warm smile. "You are just overflowing with pride right now, aren't you?"

He can't contain his soft smile, fingers caressing her hip lovingly

"I wonder how we survived for so long without that little girl."

Eleanor nods her agreement, thinking about a certain scenario. Davina wearing clothes from the 18th century, living with them in Nassau...

"Maybe if she was around three centuries ago, things could have gone a lot differently for us."

Charles raises an eyebrow and for a moment they both think about everything they could have had, if only that bright little girl could have been there to help them. To help them see past their own stupid goals and focus on what was truly important, choosing the right path.

Things could have been much different, that's for sure.

* * *

**Five days later**

He's not sure how his heart hasn't exploded at this point. It's going to happen one of these days, he's certain.

Charles never thought he'd be capable of feeling  _this_. Such a profound love. But as he leans against the doorway, secretly watching his baby sister and the woman he loves playing that same cardboard game...

Every little movement Davina makes, the concentrated look on her face, the way she explained the game to Eleanor whenever his queen pretended not to know how to proceed, their laughter and easy bond.

He could watch them for hours on end and never grow tired.

The usually oppressive stone walls of the headquarters don't bother him at all in this moment. Familiar, heavy footsteps make their way closer but Charles doesn't take his eyes off the scene playing inside the room, as Eleanor lets Davina win the game.

That's new too. He never thought he'd live to see this day.

As his sister cheers her victory and throws her arms around Eleanor's neck, his uncle comes to stand by his side at the doorway. He pays him no mind. Neither the woman nor the child notices his or Teach's presence, both of them too distracted talking about the game.

"It's the only one I have. It gets boring. Mama said we could buy another in the city but when we go there, we never find anything."

Eleanor lets out a soft chuckle, running her fingers through that soft, dark hair. "You two could always come with us, to visit Nassau. It's filled with shops, I'm sure you would love it. By the way, do you remember the time you lived there?"

She wrinkles her little nose adorably, shaking her head.

"I was too little, silly! I just remember the beach. Our house. It was really, really small. And mama and papa were always leaving."

Eleanor offers her a soft, gentle smile, brushing her hair behind her ear.

"Charlie said you love that place more than anything. Is it true?"

He stiffens briefly, actually afraid of her answer, due to their past. And depending on what she says, things could get ugly, since his uncle is listening. He's about to get Eleanor's attention, but then she starts to speak without hesitating for even a second.

"I did, once... But I went through many hard times and learned a lesson. People are so much better to fill your heart than places. Always remember that, little one."

Charles swallows hard, a wave of pride overcoming him. He suddenly really wishes Max was here to, so she could hear their queen finally saying those words and acknowledging that fact.

One quick glance at Teach's face is enough for him to notice the surprise in his eyes too, quickly masked by more hatred.

And the questions never stop leaving his sister's lips.

"And you really love my big brother? I saw you kissing him. It was gross."

_There_. The words they can never say directly to each other.

And he knows, that if Eleanor was aware he was watching them, she would have done her very best to avoid that question.

But thinking she's alone with Davina, she actually answers, although clearly a little bit uncomfortable.

"Yes... I do. Very much."

Her voice is barely audible but Davina seems satisfied, a smile coming to her face.

"I love him too. And I also love you now."

He sees the pleasant surprise on Eleanor's profile. She actually ducks her head for a second, not knowing how to deal with that.

"I'm glad to know that, little one. The feeling is mutual."

His sister is adorably confused, wrinkling her nose again.

"What does that mean?"

He knows  _exactly_  what is the thought in Eleanor's mind right now.

_Shit, she'll be forced to actually said those scary words?_

But just like him, what wouldn't she do for this little girl?

Her voice comes out even quieter this time, and it's strange to hear her stutter, even if it's just a little and barely noticeable.

"It means that I... love you too, sweetie."

There's a soft scoff of contempt from Teach and Charles finally looks away from the scene, throwing him a dark glare before leading him away from the door, not wanting Eleanor to see them. It would ruin her moment with Davina.

"She is a very good actress. That I must admit."

Eyes filled with warning, Charles clenches his jaw at his uncle's words.

"Are you ever going to listen to me? Will you wait until she stabs you in the back again?"

"Her feelings for me are true."

"Oh, I have no doubt about that."

There was no sarcasm in his voice. Charles frowns, stopping abruptly and staring at the giant in disbelief.

He sighs heavily, shaking his head. "I do know she has feelings for you. I even believe she genuinely cares for you, just as she did in the past, despite being blinded by hatred and bloodlust. But I don't believe for a second that it goes beyond that. That she cares enough to be able to love your little sister, that she wants to be such a huge part of your life. You see, the thing with the two of you..." He resumes their walk, heading in the direction of his office. Charles hesitates for a second then follows him, his interest piqued. "...is that you and her are toxic together. That is the real problem. This can never work, this... relationship, is doomed to end in tragedy. I believe you have already seen enough proof of that."

He shakes his head immediately. "Things are different now. We're  _trying_. She's making a huge effort, and so am I."

"And what happens if she wakes up one morning and decides that she misses Rogers? Or Richard?"

Those two names never fail to make his fist clench tightly.

"Rogers tried to  _rape_  her. She hates him with her whole being now and that is not gonna change. As for Richard, she made her decision. The only way they will reconcile now is if he seeks her out."

"And there lies the danger."

He scowls, wondering what his uncle meant by these words. They reach the office, silence stretching as Teach locks that heavy door behind them.

Only after he's seated behind his desk does he elaborate on that shady statement.

"Rogers is smart when he wants to be. He will certainly try looking for Eleanor, but if she hates him as you say she does, well... He may need to lure her into a trap."

Charles catches up quickly, eyes darkening as he sits down on the chair in front of the large desk, deep in thought.

"And the question is... Does she care about you enough now to listen to your warnings and refuse her father in case he comes to her, or is she going to get angry and think you're just trying to keep her away from Richard, while you know that there's a high chance he will be working with Rogers to get her back?"

That very familiar resentment sparks in his chest. The seed of doubt has once again been planted, and as hard as he tries, Charles just can't stop himself from feeling a little bit closer to visiting all the hatred for Eleanor, all the hatred he worked so hard to bury...

He  _won't_  do it.

With a clenched jaw, he meets his uncle's eyes.

"You can't do this. You can't turn me against her, not anymore. Not at this point. I have come a long way,  _she_  has come a long way... I don't expect you to understand. You have no idea what it's like. Loving someone and despising them at the same time. Trying hard to kick someone out of your heart, to convince yourself you want her blood, while also knowing, deep down, that you would do absolutely  _anything_  for her. You don't know this feeling, so I don't expect-"

"This is where you are mistaken."

He scowls at the words, silence returning to the office for a few seconds until there's a knock at the door.

"They're here." Teach gets to his feet, walking to the door. "How about we forget about that blonde traitor for now and focus on planning the attack to the cargo ship?"

He retrieves the key from one of the pockets of his leather coat, but just before he unlocks the door, the giant looks over his shoulder and meets his nephew's eyes.

"I suggest... that you start considering what I said about Richard."

* * *

_6 days._

6 days until he leaves dry land to go hunt that damned cargo ship. Eleanor thought she'd never have to worry about  _this_  again. Not in this life.

And now here she is, trying her very best to stop her mind from coming up with the worst scenarios. Just like in the past. And shit, at least three centuries ago she had something to look forward to whenever he left. He would bring her and her father what they needed. She worried, but the benefits of his adventures at sea always spoke louder than her concern for his safety, always.

And damn, it makes her feel like such a selfish bitch to remember that. But that's exactly what she was, isn't it?

_Yes. Anne is right about her._

Self-hatred tries to come creeping in but she fights back, not wanting to allow herself this weakness anymore. Instead, she focuses on the task at hand, her fingers moving over those firm muscles, kneading, pressuring, sometimes simply caressing.

She's currently straddling Charles' lower back, her hands working on his upper muscles. The idiot started using the headquarters' gym last week, stating he needed to be in his best shape to go hunt. And as she already expected, he pushed himself too hard and ended up sore, his back filled with knots.

After fighting with him for his carelessness, she went looking for Jack while Charles was in the shower, remembering what he said about Anne a few days ago at the beach. He teased her endlessly, saying it was "exceptionally cute" that she wanted to soothe his best friend's discomfort like that. Only after she threatened to give up on this whole idea did he shut up and start to teach her.

She learned fast, like she always does. Jack simply demonstrated what she had to do, using her own back as an example.

And she's still thanking God that Anne didn't catch them like that.

It took her a while to convince Charles to let her do this. But as he can never deny her anything, he ended up giving in.

She didn't think she'd like doing this so much. It gives a sense of power, makes her feel a lot better with herself, with each press of her fingers, each knot that disappears under her ministrations, each sigh of satisfaction that escapes the man beneath her, although he does his very best to mask them. Despite the peace of this moment, there's something bothering her.

Charles has been acting strange.

Angry wouldn't be the right word. Apprehensive, maybe? She's having a hard time deciphering him.

The canopy is closed around them and she's wearing nothing but one of his shirts. His hair is splayed on the pillow, giving her full access to his upper back. His eyes are closed and what she can see of his peaceful profile in the dark makes a smile tug at her lips. She works at his shoulders, feeling his tired muscles tense and then relax under her slow, unhurried attention. Her hands slide down then, until they're right in front of her scarred thighs, her thumbs pressing on either sides of his spine in a sure, rolling motion that makes him take a deep, calm breath. Noticing that all the tension has finally evaporated from his muscles, Eleanor smiles to herself, proud of her work. Her hands stop, splaying flat against his back as she leans in until her lips are brushing his ear shell.

"How was that?" Her voice is nothing but a whisper and she's satisfied to feel the goosebumps that raise on his arms.

"Jack taught you, didn't he?"

The sound of his voice, so calm now, only makes her smile widen and she hums in answer to his question before pressing a kiss to his birthmark.

Smile still in place, Eleanor gets off him and lays on the mattress while he moves onto his side, facing her. His arms come around her waist and he pulls her a little closer. His face is completely relaxed, devoid of those hard lines that are always present on his features. He looks years younger, as if he has led a life much less painful... And it makes her pretty happy with herself to know she's responsible for that peace. Even more when he finally decides to answer her question from when she finished the massage.

"Perfect. That's all I'm gonna say. It's been a while since the last time I felt like this."

She's been smiling for too long, it's time to go back to normal. Schooling her features into a more neutral expression, Eleanor moves closer until her forehead is touching his.

"When was the last time someone did this for you?"

He thinks for a moment, then shrugs slightly. "Probably 5 or 6 years ago. Mary. Before she left the country without even saying anything to us."

"That's a long time. It's not fair. I remember you used to give me massages all the time at the mansion. Why did you never ask Jack to do it in Mary's place after she vanished?"

He scoffs, immediately shaking his head. She's barely able to see the disgust in his eyes. "You're kidding, right?"

Eleanor fakes a serious look before giving up and chuckling softly at him.

"Yeah. Just messing with you."

His eye roll is automatic and her hand seeks the anchor pendant as usual, seriousness returning to her face.

"Tell me what's been plaguing you."

He stiffens briefly. For a second, the atmosphere feels heavier.

"Just eager to go back to the ocean and hunt."

"You're not taking our ship, are you?"

His chuckle sounds dry. Forced.

"No. They already have a special one for this kind of situation. Wouldn't want to risk ruining ours."

"I miss her."

She could swear she felt his heart skipping a beat at those three words.

"I'll speak to my uncle. We'll spend a night back in our ship, before I go hunting. I won't take no for an answer, so he better not even try to stop us."

Eleanor can't contain her brief, soft smile. "I'd like that a lot."

"Then you'll have it." Charles has a roguish half smirk on his lips as he covers her body with his, nipping at her lower lip before starting his way down the valley of her breasts.

But even as heat flares up between her thighs, even as his intoxicating touch invades her senses, she can't fully forget her worries, only intensified by Charles' sudden, odd behavior.

_If only she could know what's going on inside that head of his..._

She needs a damn break.

Closing her eyes, she tries to let herself enjoy the sensations he's bringing her... And to convince herself that everything will be just fine.

She only succeeds in doing the first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, I wasn't going to write this last scene. But the idea suddenly came crashing over me and I couldn't help myself. There are some tough times coming and I needed some fluff :P


	17. The Spaniard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot will happen in this one. It will be a rollercoaster of sweet moments mixed with angst and tough times, and also graphic violence. I wanted to do something special since it's the last chapter of the year ;)

She could watch him for hours on end.

The way those muscles move under his skin, glistening with sweat. How he exercises so effortlessly.

His stamina never fails to amaze her. She's getting tired just from watching his training session.

The headquarters have a huge gym, so the men can stay in shape. It's empty right now, when the night is falling, and Eleanor decided that it would be much more interesting to come watch her criminal instead of staying in their chambers with her books.

She doesn't regret her decision.

And that idiot is surely loving to make a show for her. But he's mistaken if he thinks she'll let him touch her without taking a shower first, once he's done here.

_Maybe if he behaves, she could actually shower with him however..._

Pressing her thighs together briefly at the delicious thought, she leans forward slightly on her seat. There's a whole line of them, set about a meter higher than the area where the gym is, offering her a nice view of Charles as he lifts himself on the pull up bars over and over again. The muscles of his arms strain under the effort and she bites her lower lip absentmindedly, wondering for the 1000th time how she was capable of letting this man go.

If it means she was stronger back then, she doesn't give a fuck about it, for the first time ever.

Just as he lets go of the bar and drops to the floor flawlessly, the noise echoing through the large gym area, she feels a presence. Looking over at the entrance to the gym, just a few feet away, she sees that massive body. His eyes are cold as ice when Teach looks at her face and she glares right back, straightening up and raising her chin at him.

Charles' features immediately become harder when he notices this and he rushes to them, climbing up the few steps to where the seats were placed and coming to a stop right in front of Eleanor's chair. His breathing is still somewhat heavy, sweat traveling down his exposed abdomen as he stands as close as he possibly can to his queen, eyes fixed on his uncle's face.

"Did something happen?"

Teach looks between the two of them for a second, not even trying to hide his disgust.

Just like every other time he sees them together.

"Just wanted to give you a warning. There's something you should be made aware of. One of the men, I'm not sure if you met him... He's been acting strangely. Right now, no one knows where he is. He's been missing since last night, and I fear he may have... shady intentions."

"You think he's a mutineer?"

"No. I think there's something he wants. And he's trying to find the best way to get it." His eyes travel down to Eleanor for a second. "His odd behaviour started right after you brought Miss Guthrie here. It wouldn't surprise me if he tried something against you to get his hands on her. So you should do well to watch your back until we find him."

Charles' face hardens immediately. "Who is this man?"

"Diego Ramirez. A Spanish recruit, he joined us a few months ago."

Charles' eyes flicker down to Eleanor. He notices the way she tenses up immediately at Teach's words.

The urge to protect her gets even stronger.

When she meets his eyes, he gestures with his head, silently telling her to get up, which she does, handing him his shirt. He pulls it back on before nodding at his uncle. "I'll keep my guard up then."

The usual leather coat is nowhere to be seen. Instead, Teach is wearing a long sleeved shirt tonight, and just as Charles starts to lead Eleanor away to the door, he rolls up the sleeves.

Revealing numerous thick, irregular lines. They're red as if his skin was ripped open and Eleanor can't help but stop immediately, eyes glued to the gruesome sight.

Charles throws her a glare at first, but when his eyes follow hers...

The giant notices, looking over at the stunned couple for a moment.

A dry chuckle leaves his lips.

"You don't have the slightest clue about how I got these... Do you?"

His question was directed at Eleanor, and she doesn't like the sadistic glint in his eyes as he takes a few steps closer to them, displaying the marks fully.

"Well, I suppose it's high time someone tells you... About what your perfect husband did."

Charles moves partially in front of her, staying in full alert mode while also curious to know what his uncle had to say.

"Are you familiar with the term... 'keelhauling', Miss Guthrie?"

She can't contain her gasp, eyes widening only slightly. Sudden realization washes over Charles' face and he takes another look at the marks, his jaw clenching involuntarily.

"I see you are. But can you imagine someone going through that not one, not two, but  _three_  times in a row?"

Horror fills her eyes. Even Charles is frozen, unsure how to deal with this sudden revelation, while Eleanor shakes her head violently.

" _No_ -"

"You and Jack have gotten so close. Just ask him. I assure you, our stories will match."

She remains silent, brows furrowed together, making no move to step away from Charles as her enemy continues to talk.

"You see, by the first time... You actually think it will be over soon. You pray you will end up drowning. But you don't. By the second time... You really feel the pain to its full extent. The saltwater makes the existent lacerations feel as if someone's pouring acid into them. And then there's the new ones. When your body resurfaces, you could swear part of it was left underwater, and yet the pain is still blinding you." He takes a single step closer, stopping when Charles takes two backwards, his left arm pulling Eleanor along before he moves in front of her fully. "You have any idea how it feels? Your flesh ripping, you can feel bits of your own body hanging in the air... Smell your own blood as it coats the deck."

Charles swears he can  _hear_  Eleanor's heart starting to beat faster, not needing to glance over his shoulder to know her eyes are filled with growing horror. Her breathing is coming out ragged and he  _feels_  her distress emanating from her.

"And by the third time-"

" _Enough_!"

The shout echoes a few times in the gym, then there's nothing but silence. He notices that Eleanor jumps slightly behind him in surprise, his uncle staring at his face, taken aback by his outburst.

Charles turns around, bringing one hand to Eleanor's shoulder involuntarily. Her eyes are wide, pale lips parted slightly.

"Go pack your stuff." He says in the most gentle tone he can muster before meeting his uncle's eyes again, coldness returning to his now harsher voice. "We're joining Mary back at the safe house."

That last sentence was directed both at Teach and Eleanor, and he glances over his shoulder as his queen disappears out the door. He can see she's trembling, and the urge to gather her in his embrace to comfort her is so damn strong...

He can do this later.

His eyes are cold and animalistic when he faces his uncle once more, features hardening.

"If you upset her again, I swear I'll get my crew, our stuff, my sister... And we leave this place behind,  _never_ to return again."

"Charles, can't you see that she-"

"She  _paid_  for her mistakes. What about you?"

He doesn't wait even a second for an answer, storming out of the gym while his uncle stands there. Looking utterly defeated.

* * *

"Charlie, you smell!"

Eleanor didn't think she'd be able to smile for at least a whole week. But Davina's innocent honesty makes the corners of her lips twitch up involuntarily as she accompanies them up the stairs, still overflowing with excitement for having her brother here in the house again.

His chuckle sounds sincere too and he ruffles his sister's hair while she opens the door to the guest room for them.

"We left in a hurry, kid. Didn't have time to shower first."

Mary's shout from downstairs reaches their ears.

"You better do it before dinner though, or I swear I'll kick you out of the house!"

His eye roll is automatic and he shares a look with Davina. "How do you stand her?"

"Mama screams when I don't want to shower too. But she screamed at me much louder when I brought a little frog to my room. She said it was veno..." She wrinkles her nose, struggling with the word, and Eleanor has to chuckle.

"Venomous?"

The little girl nods immediately, smiling at her. "Yeah, that was it! But he was so pretty! Tiny and blue. And mama didn't let me keep him."

The adorable pout of her lips just makes Eleanor want to attack this little angel with kisses. But she stays put, watching as Davina ran out of the guest room to go help her mother in the kitchen.

Her face falls as soon as they're alone and she walks to the bed, dropping down on the mattress. The atmosphere has become much more serious in a matter of seconds and Charles watches her for a moment as she sits there before heading to the bathroom door.

When he comes back a while later, fresh out of the shower, she's still in the exact same spot, the exact same position. Eyes softening, he retrieves his jeans from his bag and pulls them on before joining her.

She stays silent for a minute longer.

Her eyes are so haunted when she finally looks at his face.

" _Three times_... Who was that man?" It's a broken whisper and Charles lets out a heavy sigh, moving his arm around her shoulder and pulling her closer so her head rested against the crook of his neck. Chin pressed to her cold forehead, he lets his fingers squeeze and caress her shoulder. "I was  _never_  safe."

"He's two oceans away now. And he will never touch you again."

"Won't he?" She pulls away, meeting his eyes. The anguish written all over her face makes his heart clench. "You don't know that. He could be planning something at this very moment, that disturbed mind coming up with ways to get me back."

Charles lowers his eyes. The words his uncle said about Richard come to his mind. Should he try talking to her about this? It seems like a good opportunity, but she's already so distraught, no doubt she'd snap if he mentioned Teach. So he decides to save this particular subject for later.

"Let him come. Let him come and I'll be waiting for him with a gun and my fists."

She scoffs and shakes her head, averting her eyes. "Of course you will."

Her tone is dry and she removes his arm from around her shoulders harshly before getting to her feet and rushing to the window. A scowl refuses to leave her face while she spies outside through a crack in the curtains. Her hair is completely loose tonight, and he takes a moment to admire those blonde waves before clenching his jaw, his knuckles closing around the sheets.

"You need to work on this. You need to stop pushing me away whenever you're going through your inner conflicts. It's not fair and you know it."

She doesn't even glance at him.

"Fair...? I went through hell, detaching myself from my father, so I could finally leave with you. I spent the first month sleeping with one eye open, fearing Anne could sneak into our cabin and stab me. I endured the humiliation of keeping my mouth shut whenever Jack and her stared at me in contempt, because I knew there was  _nothing_  I could possibly say to defend myself. I did all that, so I could be with you." She takes a deep breath and swallows hard, not wanting to let any tears out. "I just thought... That everything would be okay once I gathered the courage to choose the right path. I thought we would be at peace. I had no idea there would be storm after storm, just like in the past when I made the wrong decisions."

Finally turning around to face him again, she shakes her head slightly and walks closer to the bed. "I sacrificed so much, Charles. I gave up on everything. Only to find myself in the middle of a fucking mess, all over again. And you want to tell me what's fair and what's not?"

He narrows his eyes at her, trying to ignore the pain caused by her words. "You're saying you regret your decision of staying with me."

"No." Her answer is immediate and she lets out a shaky breath. "I just... I'm just so fucking  _tired_."

Her voice breaks. It's barely noticeable, but he gets to his feet and closes the remaining distance to her, pulling her into his embrace despite her protests.

Eventually, her fight dies down and she breathes in the scent of his still wet hair, arms hesitantly moving to his back.

"Suck it up. You've been through worse." His raspy, low voice says and she scoffs, though making no move to let go of him. "Things are messy right now, but we faced harder times. We're together. And that's exactly how we'll face everything this bitch called fate throws at us. We'll show her who's the toughest."

She can't help but smile softly at his words.

With a heavy sigh, Eleanor closes her eyes and lets her forehead rest on his shoulder.

* * *

The dark ocean below cradles his cruise ship as Flint stands at the rail, staring down at his phone screen. There's nothing but silence while he reads the e-mail again, unable to help the stubborn smile that insists on tugging at the left corner of his lips.

_"We have received the latest donation, and I would like to share with you more about the current situation of the kids._

_Winter is approaching but that is no longer something we must be worried about. It has been years since the last time we saw any of them trembling from the cold. They now have proper clothes, blankets and food._

_We are now able to afford giving them more than just what they need to stay alive, they have entertainment and their lives are much more colorful. Did I mention I get to take them on excursions every once a month? Their favorite is the museum._

_They are still very curious about our mysterious savior, and I must admit, so am I. My invitation remains. Should you ever want to come meet us in London, our door will be wide open._

_Your very grateful friend,_

_Travis Hutcherson."_

Every few months, he receives those e-mails. Ever since he came across the online site of an institution that served as a shelter for kids who got kicked out of home, after coming out of the closet. Said institution was struggling back then, the owner feared he would have to close it. But then he contacted Travis and started to donate generous amounts of his fortune every month.

He just needed to make sure that London kids will have a place to run to, if they find themselves all alone after embracing their true colors. After the tragedy, he  _owed_  this to the man he loved, he had to do something good in his memory, instead of becoming a  _monster_  all over again.

Travis has been asking for a visit for years now. And while Flint would actually like that, the mere idea of returning to London is enough to make him cringe.

It's best that he keeps ignoring his faceless friend, simply donating the money without ever answering the e-mails and staying far, far away.

With a heavy sigh, he puts his phone back into the pocket of his leather jacket and stares at the colorful, beautiful place.

He's been keeping the Walrus in a port in Phuket for the past few days.

John's words echo in his ears, he recalls the scorn written all over the man's face as he accused him of worrying too damn much about the safety of a certain blonde snake.

And now, there's nothing he could possibly say to defend himself. Here he is, staying as close to Somalia as he can, ready to jump into action in case shit happens and said snake needs his aid.

It's incredibly stupid, but Eleanor has become way too important to him, and he needs to keep her safe. He failed to do so in their past lives...

That mistake will  _not_  be repeated.

* * *

"If we don't teach her, then the world will. What do you prefer?"

Eleanor tries hard not to smirk while she watches her criminal roll his eyes at Mary's words.

Davina had just asked him, once again, about the origin of babies. And Mary decided it was time for them to have this talk with the little girl.

Needless to say, Charles wasn't too thrilled about that idea.

"I prefer to lock her in a bubble and never let anyone touch-"

"Charles!" Eleanor cuts him off, glaring daggers at him while Mary shakes her head.

"God, you're going to be a problem when she starts dating."

"And who says she will?" He practically growls, eyes filled with hostility while Jack and Anne make their way into the living room too, both very interested in seeing their leader's distress.

"Go on." Mary says, choosing to ignore his previous words. She looks like a sadistic torturer. "Your sister asked you a question. I did warn you, that you would be the one to explain this to her."

His eyes move to Eleanor's face and she shakes her head, her lips a tight line. "Don't even try."

He clenches his jaw, focusing his attention back on the curious little girl sitting on his legs. She had been using his knees as a horse just a minute ago before suddenly stopping their game and asking him that dreaded question once again.

_Just how in the world is he going to explain this to his 9-year-old sister?_

With a heavy sigh, he tries his best to ignore Jack's snickering.

"You see... Every men has... special seeds inside them, and when they get too...  _happy_ , the seeds come out." Even Anne laughs and he throws her a murderous glare. "Sometimes they end up inside a woman. And when this happens, those seeds gives origin to a baby."

There's silence while Davina thinks about what he said. He just hopes she'll be satisfied with his explanation and go back to playing.

_No such luck._

Wrinkling her nose, she meets his eyes again.

"But Charlie, that makes no sense! How do the seeds end up in the woman's tummy? Does she swallow them?"

Jack clears his throat, trying hard not to burst out laughing. "Well, sometimes-"

He's cut off by Anne's sharp elbow to his ribs, even though the redhead seems very amused too.

Eleanor is biting her lower lip to keep herself from laughing, watching her criminal and waiting to see what he'll say next. He swallows hard, choosing his words carefully.

"The man and the woman... play a special game. They stay really close, they kiss, and they... get joined. By their private parts."

Her disgusted face actually makes him smile.

"You're not too good at explaining this." She says matter-of-factly, shaking her head and hopping down to the floor before running to Eleanor's chair. "Why grown-ups do that, Eleanor? It sounds so gross!"

Charles has a cruel smirk on his lips, satisfied to see this situation suddenly turned around. His queen glares darkly at him for a moment while he crosses his arms, nodding at her to prompt her to answer quicker.

Clenching her jaw, she meets Davina's eyes. "It's not gross, sweetie. I assure you. It's just..." She thinks for a few seconds, not sure what to say. Until she gives up and resorts to the cliché adults always use. "It's just what two people do when they love each other very much."

Anne scoffs, that amused glint not leaving her eyes. "Or when they meet at the bar and hardly know each other's names."

Charles meets the redhead's eyes, shrugging slightly as he speaks. "Or three people."

Annd gives him the middle finger, unable to contain her wicked smirk.

Mary throws them a glare while Eleanor rolls her eyes. "You two are not helping."

"So you and Charlie do that, right?" Davina's sudden question leaves the blonde speechless and Jack finally bursts out laughing.

"I love this kid more and more with each passing day."

The little girl frowns in confusion. "Why you laughing, uncle Jack?"

Anne smirks again, nodding at their leader. "Show her your shoulders and back, Charles."

"Okay, enough!" Mary protests, getting to her feet. "I should have known this was not going to end well."

She leaves for the kitchen and Davina takes a look around the living room before coming to a conclusion.

"Grown-ups are so weird."

Eleanor brushes the child's hair behind her ear, smiling affectionately. "I promise everything will make perfect sense in a few years. Meanwhile, just forget this whole story, enjoy your childhood and play, alright?"

Davina considers her words for a moment and then nods with a bright smile. Just then, they notice it's starting to rain outside.

With a sigh, Charles gets to his feet. "It's probably going to get heavier. I'll go secure the ship properly.

Anne wordlessly follows him out of the living room, and while they're getting their jackets at the hall Charles calls out to Eleanor.

"Wanna come too?"

She doesn't need any more encouragement, immediately getting to her feet and following them, eager to be near the Ranger again.

"Can I go too, Charlie? Please?"

He shakes his head, trying not to look at his sister's puppy eyes.

"Sorry, kid. I'll take you to see her when it's not raining."

* * *

_Warning: Violence and graphic content ahead. Also, if you're sensitive to rape-related content, you might want to skip these next two parts. I'll include a summary of them on my end notes in case anyone is uncomfortable to read the whole thing._

The three adults leave the house and walk past the headquarters, heading for the covered harbor further down the beach. They reach it in a few minutes, quickly going over to the smaller ship. As Charles and Anne work with the ropes, Eleanor silently lifts the hatch door and goes down the ladder behind the helm.

Her sigh of satisfaction and her warm smile are automatic while she takes a look around, extremely relieved to be back in their cabin.

Everything is still just as they left it.

The bunk is still messy; she should have known Charles wouldn't even think about tidying the blankets after he dropped her off at the safe house weeks ago, when they first arrived here. She does quick work taking care of that before walking over to the desk.

Running her fingers over the surface of it, the maps and the captain's chair, she lets her mind wander for a few moments, recalling all the times she sat on Charles' lap while he studied the maps during their journey, sometimes she even ended up sleeping and he would carry her to the bunk once he was done and ready to rest too... Her thoughts soon travel to all the times she sat on the edge of this very desk too, clinging to her pirate tightly and calling out his name repeatedly while he moved inside her, rougher and harder with each passing second...

Swallowing hard and taking off her jacket due to the sudden hot feeling taking her over, she walks over to one of the windows. There are two mermaid statues, on either sides of the line of windows and she stares outside, looking down at the ocean. The storm is already starting to disturb the water.

She's not sure how much time passes.

And then her sixth sense starts to wake up.

The short wisps of hair at the nape of her neck stand up, goosebumps raising all over the skin of her arms.

Something's not right.

Something's not right at all. There's a presence...

_She's not alone in this cabin._

Just as the thought suddenly comes, there's a noise from behind her and she turns around.

Coming face to face with a long-haired Spaniard.

His hand covers her mouth before she can even try to scream for help. She tries to kick him, to push him away, but it's no use. Using his free hand, he pins her wrists to the wall above her head, pressing his body to hers. His breath is rotten and her stomach turns when he buries his face in her neck, breathing in the scent of her hair deeply.

She knows  _exactly_  what he wants.

But hell, he's wrong if he thinks she'll give it to him on a silver platter.

Forcing herself not to panic, Eleanor brings her leg up and hits her knee to his groin. The monster curses loudly in Spanish, letting go of her and doubling over in pain. She can't find her own voice, but moves to run, knowing she just needed to climb up to the deck where Charles and Anne were, then she was going to be safe. But the Spaniard recovers fast and grabs her neck from behind, cutting off her air supply instantly. She was just a few steps away from the ladder...

Eyes watering from the rough pressure on her neck, Eleanor tries to pry his hand away, clawing uselessly at the filthy fingers while he drags her back towards the desk. Her vision was starting to go black, she was suffocating, unable to scream. The next thing she knows is that he's pushing her down into the desk's surface, her face hitting the wood hard. She tastes her own blood. The hand around her neck moves away and she gasps for air.

Why did she have to wear a skirt  _today_? It only makes things easier for the Spaniard. He pauses briefly, probably seeing her scars, and she tries to turn around, to hit him. But he's quick to react, one hand returning to her neck and strangling her again.

This can't be happening.

This can't be real.

She's still trying to put up a fight, but he has the upper hand. She's pressed to the desk, on her stomach, restrained by her neck. Unable to breathe.

_Is this what a hanging feels like?_

The filthy pig stands between her thighs, saying something she barely hears. She's filled with horror, feeling him undo his pants with his free hand behind her, his putrid smell making her want to vomit, to get away...

All hope seems lost. She's going unconscious from lack of oxygen.

Mustering the last bit of her strength, Eleanor angles her head as best as she can,  _praying_  it was still there...

And her eyes glint when she finds it.

The bottle Charles had been drinking from, shortly after taking her to the safe house that night.

In this moment, she doesn't feel angry about his disregard for tidiness in the slightest.

She's not sure where she finds the strength. But in the blink of an eye she grabs the bottle and throws her arm back, hitting her target. The glass shatters against the Spaniard's face and his hand lets go of her neck, his loud grunt of pain reaching her ears as he restrains her by her hips.

But at least now she's free to scream.

After a sharp, huge intake of much needed air, she opens her mouth again.

" _Charles_!"

* * *

"You think it's gonna work out?"

He glances at Anne's face. They just got finished with the ropes and are now smoking at the bow, staring at the storm falling outside the covered harbor.

He knows she's talking about their upcoming hunt, and a smirk tugs at the right corner of his lips.

"Scared?" The redhead scoffs, meeting his eyes in amusement while he speaks again. "We'll give them hell. It will be just like the good old days."

Anne nods at his words. He can see she's just as eager to hunt again. They both need it so desperately...

The rain is getting heavier, muting out any other sounds. That is, until he hears something that turns his blood to ice.

" _Charles_!"

His eyes meet Anne's again for a split second as the desperate scream reaches their ears. Snapping into action, they both throw the cigarettes to the water and take off running all the way to the stern.

His heart is racing in his chest while he jumps down into the cabin, not even bothering with the ladder.

The scene he finds makes his blood boil, his vision going red.

A filthy man standing between Eleanor's thighs, her skirt bunched up at her waist. His face was bleeding, two or three glass shards buried into his left cheek. He was restraining his queen by her hip and waist while she trashed around violently, putting up a fight. But the man's intentions were very clear and his pants were already undone.

Charles barely recognizes the animalistic growl that leaves his throat as his own, closing the distance to his desk in a heartbeat and tackling the strange man to the wooden floor.

Eleanor is completely disoriented while a wide eyed Anne rushes to the desk and helps her to her feet. The redhead is quick to drag her away from the vicious fight, pulling her to one of the corners of the cabin and shielding her body with hers. A sob escapes against her will and she can't believe her own eyes when Anne turns around and brings a comforting arm around her shoulder, her eyes are so tender but she sees the horror written all over her face, knowing she's probably remembering what she went through in her childhood.

"It's gonna be okay." Another sob, and Anne surprises her again when she pulls her into a hug, one hand cradling the back of her head and not letting her look at the fight. "You're gonna be just fine, it's alright now."

She can't help but bring her shaky arms up to return the embrace, tears finally flowing freely as Eleanor squeezed her eyes shut, clinging to Anne for dear life.

While this scene played out, the redhead kept her attention on Charles, watching as her leader finally got back to his feet, dragging the other man with him.

Growls and grunts left his lips while he pushed the filthy pig against the wall, proceeding to throw punch after punch at his face, until his head lolled weakly to the side, his eyes barely open.

Still holding Eleanor protectively, Anne watches in dark pleasure as Charles reached for the shelf of the desk right behind him to retrieve his knife.

Moved by his rage, he dug the sharp edge into the other man's guts, over and over again. Spine-chilling gurgles left the Spaniard's lips, blood seeping out of his mouth.

Unable to restrain himself any longer, Charles finally digs the knife into his stomach one last time before sharply moving his hand to the other side, effectively slashing him open. Blood and guts flow out as he falls lifelessly to the wooden floor.

Silence stretches in the cabin, disturbed only by Eleanor's soft sobs.

Charles turns around to look at the two women, blood staining his shirt, his face, coating his hands. Letting the knife drop to the floor, he closes the distance to them. Anne lets go of the still trembling blonde and some of the darkness vanishes from Charles' eyes, getting replaced by tenderness as he checks Eleanor's face, her split lip and the rest of her body for any other injuries. Once done, his fingers caress her cheek, smearing blood on it and she lets out a shuddering breath, throwing herself into his arms and burying her face in his neck. He holds her safely, sharing a grateful look with Anne.

He doesn't look like he just gutted another man like a pig.

"Must be the fucking rebel Teach told you about."

He just nods, gently pulling Eleanor away from him and meeting her scared eyes. Her clothes and face are now stained with blood too.

"Hey. You're safe now." She forces a shaky nod, looking over at the macabre sight of the mutilated body while Charles met Anne's eyes. "Take her to your cabin and help her clean up. Don't let her come back here until I take care of this mess."

"What is Teach going to say about this? You killed one of his men. For  _her_."

"Teach be damned." He practically growls, his anger contrasting with the tenderness of his movements when he pushes Eleanor towards Anne softly, encouraging her to go with the redhead. She obeys his silent order, looking away from the gutted Spaniard and trying to stop her tears as Anne led her out the door, one arm around her shoulders.

Charles watches them go, waiting until the door closed behind them before clenching his jaw hard and storming over to the dead man. All tenderness has vanished from his eyes as he kicks the lifeless form with all his strength.

* * *

"How far did he get?"

Anne asks in the most gentle tone she can, bringing the wet rag back to Eleanor's cheek. The blonde swallows hard, waiting until she was finished cleaning her face to shake her head slightly.

"He touched me. Right after I screamed. He... pinched me, I'm not sure." She rubs a hand over her forehead, eyes filling with tears again. "All I know is that it  _hurt_."

"You still in pain now?"

"It's starting to pass. I was more scared than anything, I didn't expect him to do that, so..."

She trails off, ducking her head to try and hide the lone tear running down her cheek. But Anne sees it and surprise fills Eleanor's face again as she hesitantly reaches to wipe the tear away with her thumb.

_Fuck, this is surreal._

"You probably think I'm a weak, dramatic bitch. You probably feel even more anger towards me now."

There's silence and then Anne's voice reaches her ears. Her tone is rough with confusion now.

"The fuck you're talking about, snake?"

Meeting her eyes Eleanor blinks twice, her face filled with sorrow. "I broke again. And once more, I wasn't even actually raped. It was just another failed attempt. And yet I react like this. You, on the other hand... went through the whole thing, multiple times. You must be overflowing with disdain."

"Stop saying bullshit."

Anne's voice is back to its normal dry, rough tone by now and she clenches her jaw after saying that last sentence. Eleanor glances over at her discarded, bloody clothes for a moment. She has no idea how she doesn't feel exposed and uncomfortable, sitting here on the counter, in Jack and Anne's bathroom, wearing nothing but her underwear.

"It doesn't matter if he got to fuck you or not. It doesn't matter if  _Rogers_  got to fuck you or not. The fear was there. You already got a taste of this hell, and what you felt is the same I did. The humiliation. The sheer horror. That awful feeling of helplessness... The deep despair. I know what you're going through, I've been there." She stops talking for a moment, walking into the bedroom then coming back with a black tanktop and some jeans. Handing them to Eleanor, her eyes soften. "And I wouldn't wish this pain even to my worst enemy."

* * *

After what feels like hours, Charles finally makes his way to the deck. He took care of the body and the mess in the captain's quarters, now he just needs to wash himself and change his clothes before he can go retrieve Eleanor in Jack and Anne's cabin.

He's walking to the hatch door behind the helm when it reaches his ears.

His eyes close and he freezes immediately.

"Charlie!"

His sister is here.

His sister is here and he's covered in  _blood_.

He looks over his shoulder and sees her walking the gangway with Billy, already talking nonstop and smiling brightly. But his mood is just so somber right now that not even this little girl is able to make it better.

"I told you to stay at the damn house!" He speaks through gritted teeth and Davina immediately stops in her tracks, her smile disappearing. He had not meant to sound so harsh, and as her lower lip trembles slightly, big blue eyes filling with sadness, Charles already regrets his outburst deeply.

She looks like she's about to cry and he feels like the worst person in the world.

"Sorry, Charlie." Her voice is quiet and she ducks her head. "I just got... worried. You didn't come back so I asked cousin Billy to bring me here. He used his jacket to protect me, I didn't get wet. See?"

Her strained voice goes straight to his heart.

_If he makes his sister cry, he swears he'll ask someone to hang him again._

Eyes softening, Charles sighs heavily and finally turns around, walking to her.

"Sorry I snapped like that, okay? It wasn't-"

"What is  _that_?" She asks, pointing at the red stains all over his shirt, her little nose scrunched up in confusion.

_Shit, he forgot about the blood._

He just killed a man. Gutted him like a pig, and he doesn't feel the slightest bit of remorse for that.

But being close to his innocent little sister after what he just did...

In this moment, Charles feels so damn unworthy of her. Impure. As if he doesn't deserve this beautiful little angel, this  _blessing_  and all the joy she brings with her.

Meeting Billy's eyes for a moment, he sees the other man knows exactly what the red substance coating his hands and shirt is, but he stays silent.

After struggling to find a good answer for a moment, Charles lowers his head, unable to look Davina in the eyes.

"It's just... paint. Been making some improvements below deck." Forcing a smile, he finally looks at her face again. "Looks like I made a big mess, right?"

She nods, pouting slightly as her apprehensive eyes meet his.

"Please don't be mad at me, Charlie."

His heart is breaking so fucking hard.

With a shake of his head, he walks closer and gets down on one knee in front of the child.

"I'm not mad, Davy."

"Promise?"

"Promise, kid. I was just stressed, that's all. It's not your fault, you didn't do anything wrong."

The sadness  _finally_  vanishes from her eyes and she offers him a half smile.

"Don't be mad at Billy either?"

The ghost of a smirk comes to his lips and he nods, resisting the urge of ruffling her hair.

He wouldn't want this dirty blood on his perfect little angel.

Just then, Anne emerges on deck too and he walks away from Billy and Davina, getting closer to the redhead.

"She wanted to go back to your cabin. I checked first, and since you were done I took her back there. But she's really shaken and she needs you."

He sighs, nodding at her words and reaching to give her hand a quick squeeze to let his gratitude show.

"Kid." He calls out, getting his sister's attention. "Aunt Anne will take you back to the house, alright? I need to take care of something but I'll join you later."

She agrees, going on and on about some stuffed animal of hers she wanted to show Anne as they walked the gangway. The redhead takes her jacket off to protect her from the rain and then they're gone.

"Tell me what really happened."

He meets Billy's eyes, clenching his jaw.

"The rebel. He was hiding in my cabin and Eleanor went down there alone. He attacked... and narly raped her. I got there just in time and killed the bastard. Gutted him like the disgusting pig he was."

Billy's eyebrows raise up and he thinks about this revelation for a moment.

"I won't go to Teach. But I suggest you tell him about this sooner or later. And get rid of the body as quick as you can."

Charles nods, glancing over his shoulder in the direction of the hatch door. "I already have something in mind."

He turns around, almost reaching the helm when Billy calls his name. It makes him stop and look over at the other man in question.

"Just so you know. I don't condemn you. I have no idea what it's like to love a woman the way you love Eleanor. But I do know that I would do anything to protect Mary and Davina. They are my family, just as Eleanor is yours. That's why I won't tell anyone about this. You did the right thing."

He considers Billy for a moment then nods his head and climbs down to the captain's quarters.

She's sitting on their bunk, eyes glued to the spot where the body had been a couple of hours ago. There's no sign of the blood or the guts that spilled out now, he did a good job taking care of the mess.

Carefully, Charles approaches the bunk and sits on the mattress by her side, very slowly so he wouldn't scare her any further.

"What did you do with the body?" Her voice is strained and she refuses to meet his eyes. Until he grabs a gentle hold of her chin and forces her to do so.

"Used the electric saw to cut it to pieces. It's all in a box in the cargo hold. There's a spot filled with sharks nearby, I saw them when I took my sister sailing. I'll go there tomorrow and feed them this special meal."

This should probably make her horrified.

But it doesn't.

She just nods, her face a cold mask. His eyes drop to her neck and he scowls. The bruises have gotten worse.

He can see it clearly, the shape of the Spaniard's fingers. His fists clench involuntarily.

Brushing his fingertips over her neck softly, he sighs, meeting her eyes again when she speaks.

"He looked so much like..."

"You think it was him?"

She shakes her head, doing her very best not to cry again. "No. It wasn't. But he could be his brother or something like that. They were just too damn similar."

"I'll see if I can find out more about that bastard. If he had a sibling."

Her breathing comes out ragged despite her best efforts. "I really thought he was going to..."

"But he didn't. You fought, and you were able to call for me. I'm so damn proud of you, by the way."

There. The ghost of a smile, the corners of her lips twitching up briefly.

"I kicked his groin. Hard. Like you told me to do."

A half smirk comes to his own lips. "Should have done this with the governor too. It would have been sweet."

"It's not like I didn't try. But he was smarter than the Spaniard and knew how dodge."

Charles pulls her closer and kisses her pale forehead. She sighs, her fingers closing around the string of his necklace.

"I still can't believe Anne  _hugged_  me."

"This sort of thing is her weak spot..." He stays silent for a moment, as if deciding whether he should say something or not. In the end, he does. "I actually think you're starting to grow on Anne."

She has to scoff at that, averting her eyes. "Please."

"Wanna make a bet?" He waits patiently for her to take the bait, her curiosity winning as she looked at his face again. "I bet the two of you are going to be friends by the end of the month."

She rolls her eyes, moving closer and straddling his lap. "Things between me and her are going to be back to normal by tomorrow. So yeah, let's make this bet. I'll love to see you lose."

He gives her one of those crooked smirks and seals their bet with a kiss.

It was meant to be quick, he didn't want to overwhelm her. But she doesn't let him pull away, hands flying to the back of his neck and keeping him in place.

She wants to prove, both to him and to her that the recent events didn't break her completely. That she's still strong enough to deal with this. And he knows there's nothing he can possibly do to make her understand this is not necessary, that he won't think she's weak if she just wants to sleep tonight.

But there  _is_  something he can do.

Once he's free from his blood-stained clothes and she has discarded the ones Anne lent her, Charles lays back, pulling her with him so she's on top. Giving her full control.

The storm gets worse outside. The look they share is filled with hidden words and emotions, and she understands what he's doing.

It means the whole world to her and God, she loves him for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Eleanor goes down to the captain's quarters all alone while Charles and Anne work with the ropes. The Spaniard mentioned in the first part of the chapter was hiding in there and he attacks her. He's about to rape her when she smashes a glass bottle against his head, making him let go of her neck so she can scream for help. Charles kills the Spaniard while Anne protects her.
> 
> Happy new year, everyone! Hope you all have a fun time! Thank you all so much for reading this whole thing in 2017, including the first part of the story! All those views and visitors mean a lot to me :D Let's see what 2018 will bring, I still have plenty of ideas so ya'll probably be stuck with me for a while ;) lol


	18. Strategies and Old Allies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First chapter of the year! This one got a little bit long and things got a little out of hand. There's angst, absurd levels of fluff and some smut too. You've been warned! ;)

Finishing to get dressed, he lets his eyes wander to the bed.

His queen's blonde hair is splayed over the pillow, she's laying on her stomach, the thin sheet covering her only to her waist. Her breathing is soft, peaceful, eyelids fluttering for a second though she doesn't wake up. She's wearing nothing but the bee necklace he stole for her all those months ago, her arms are under the pillow and she looks like an angel.

A messy angel, but still.

It takes all of his willpower not to remove his clothes again, crawl back into bed and gather her in his arms.

He  _really_  needs to go.

With a sigh, Charles closes the curtains as quietly as he can to keep the early morning light from invading the room and disturbing Eleanor's sleep. Even if she'll probably wake up soon due to his absence, she still needs all the rest she can possibly get.

He takes a last glance at the perfect sight of her naked, sleeping form before leaving the guest room and closing the door carefully. Charles takes one quick look at the door down the hall, seeing it's closed. His sister is still asleep, of course.

But there's already some commotion downstairs and he forces himself to walk away from the room that held his most precious treasure, heading to the staircase. Tomorrow, they will leave to go hunt the cargo ship and his uncle is waiting for him and his accomplices at the headquarters, so they can discuss about their strategy one last time before the big event comes.

Their plan is to surrender the crew and lock them somewhere, making sure they're unable to contact dry land or other ships for help. After that, they transfer what they can get of the cargo to their own ship and leave, heading the opposite way of their real destination just in case. Only after a couple of hours pass, they will go back to their harbor of origin.

Anticipation is already coursing through his veins, he can't wait to do this again. The ocean calls for him, and although he's been butting heads with both Teach  _and_  Eleanor, he couldn't be happier about what's to come tomorrow.

His uncle disagreed with some of his decisions, the men he chose to take with him, for example. But he already told him to lead this and the next few upcoming hunts - even though it would be more appropriate to say that he  _imposed_  this on Charles - so he's going to make things his own way, whether Teach likes it or not.

He refuses to let anyone control him.

Unless it's his sister deciding which games she wants to play with him.

_His sister._

Truth be told, he really doesn't want Davina to know about what he's going to do tomorrow. His sweet little angel  _can't_  even suspect about this hunt.

"You think she'll trust me if I say I'm only gonna test the ship with the men?" He asks his former lover as soon as he makes his way into the kitchen, seeing his two accomplices nursing some coffee.

Mary raises an eyebrow, giving him a look and a barely noticeable smile.

"Charles, you are her  _hero_." She sighs, shaking her head. "She'll trust whatever you tell her."

He just looks at her face for a moment, processing those words and acknowledging that fact for the first time ever.

Who would've ever known that one day a child would see him as a hero.

_A hero._

He does have a lot to live up to now, doesn't he?

And he has no idea how to feel about that.

So he just nods, somewhat awkwardly, before storming out of the house, Jack and Anne hot on his heels.

* * *

"I still don't know how to feel." Eleanor confesses, staring at the headquarters through a crack in the curtains and holding her phone to her ear. "He leaves tomorrow and I'd love to say I'm not worried, but..."

_"...But you are. Extremely worried. It's best that you talk to me about this. It could help you feel better, perhaps?"_

She sighs heavily, although grateful for the comfort brought by that deep voice. The voice she's been missing so much ever since the night they left Nassau.

She didn't think she would miss Scott this much.

"I'm not sure. You know I'm not used to this."

_"You weren't used to trusting Vane either, and look at the two of you now."_

She detects something in his tone. It makes her smile warmly.

"Are you jealous of him?"

_"I just think you owe this to the man who raised you. This is the first time such distance is put between you and me, and I admit I'm having a tough time dealing with this. I worry about you constantly, so please let me try and help you. I can hear the pain in your voice. You can't hide from me, China Doll."_

The childhood nickname makes her smile widen just slightly and she nods softly, although knowing he couldn't see the gesture.

"I just... really want to murder him right now. He's not listening to me, and I know nothing good can come out of this. Even if tomorrow he comes back in one piece, victorious... What comes after that? He has already mentioned that Blackbeard expects him to lead the next few hunts..."

_"...And you're worried. Worried he will end up liking this far more than he should. Worried that it will reawaken old instincts and suddenly, he will not want to stop."_

She didn't even realize she was holding her breath. Exhaling sharply, Eleanor lets go of the curtains and steps away from the window, suddenly not bearing the sight of her enemy's empire anymore. "No. That isn't a concern of mine, because I know who he will choose if he has to. It will be just like in the past."

Scott doesn't need to see her face to know that she has a smug, cruel half-smirk on her lips, and she knows it, ignoring his heavy sigh and speaking again. "In case this situation starts to get too out of hand, I will simply give Charles an ultimatum and he will do whatever I say. If I say I want to go home, he will have the ship ready to sail in less than one hour. Let Teach think he has the upper hand, I will humiliate him-"

_"Be careful, Eleanor."_  His voice cuts her off and she falls silent at once, slightly surprised by his sudden stern tone.

After years of seeing this man as a father, she can't help but shut up like a child and lower her head when he uses this tone. Even if it's just for a short moment.

_"You seem to have forgotten who you're dealing with. It also looks like you think you're still in your father's domain, where Blackbeard can't hurt you. Things have changed, you are in **his** kingdom now, if he feels threatened and wants you out of the way he  **will** do something about it. I would tell you to back down and lower your head, but since I know this is not a possibility, I suggest that you at least thread carefully.  **Very**  carefully."_

Capturing her lower lip between her teeth briefly, she takes a look around the guest room, rolling her eyes at the mess Charles has already made. "I am threading carefully. It's not like I'm trying to take his empire from him. I have no interest in this filthy place and those filthy men. All I want is to go back to my home, to my tavern, with my ship and  _my_ pirate."

_"And that is exactly what I mean."_

Her frown is automatic and she scoffs, not really in the mood for cryptic phrases. "What?"

_"There's something you both want. And the time will come, when you two will be forced to fight and see who will be the winner. Or you think he will be perfectly content to let you take his nephew away without putting up some resistance?"_

Scowl still in place, she shakes her head, mostly to herself. "There is no need for a fight. That choice is only Charles'. Not mine, not Blackbeard. But Charles'."

_"And you think Teach will react in a passive manner? You **know** he will blame you for that. And what keeps him from getting rid of you, so Charles will have nothing left other than going back to his old ways?"_

She falls silent, closing her eyes with a heavy sigh. Everything he's saying, she already thought about all that.

She can hear the tired concern in her father figure's voice when he continues.  _"Changing the subject... If you truly think you can get Vane to do as you wish... Try to get him to give up on this upcoming hunt. Your mother has a very bad feeling. She's afraid something is about to happen to him, and I know you feel the same way, you told me so. And with him gone... Who will keep you safe from Teach?"_

Tears burn in her eyes, her heart beating faster. So Caroline feels it too.

_It's getting harder and harder to ignore this nagging fear._

"I'm not certain if my control over him is enough for this. I have tried several times, but he's simply not willing to give up on this fucking hunt."

There's silence from the other side of the line for a moment, and when Scott speaks again his voice is filled with sorrow.

_"I know you won't like what I have to say. But you **know**  I'm right. If you can't get Vane to give up on this stupidity, you should do well to... prepare for the worst. Ensure you have a way to escape this place safely and come back home. Be rational. Just like in the past. I don't like telling you to go back to your old self, but there are times when it's needed. And this is one of them... Contact Flint. I have reasons to believe he's near you. And he is your only chance at survival in case something happens to Vane and you're left unprotected."_

Eleanor doesn't realize her eyes are filled with tears until one of them escapes and rolls down her cheek. Utterly frustrated with herself, she angrily wipes the teardrop away and does her best to regain her composure, straightening up and raising her chin, eyes glued to the window.

"I will. You have my word."

* * *

"Mothers carry them for 9 months... And they're born copies of their fathers."

Max can't contain her half smile, looking up at Sarah's face and shrugging.

"His hair is the exact same color as yours, at least."

Aiden is in his crib, tiny fingers wrapped around her thumb while he coos nonstop, as if he's trying to communicate with her. His blue eyes are glued in the direction where her voice comes from too, he's paying Sarah no mind, like always. Every time Max says something, he laughs and waves his little arms around wildly.

He thinks she's his mother. But Max tries to ignore this fact as best as she can, knowing she can't afford to get even more attached to the now 10 week old baby. She shouldn't even be still coming here to begin with. She really should listen to Idelle and cut this hateful Sarah and sweet Aiden out of her life for good.

_So why can't she just do it already?_

Sarah lets out a soft chuckle, nodding her head. "Yes. At least he got something from me."

"His father is not coming around anymore, I noticed."

The older woman's face falls and she shakes her head, sighing heavily. "Just Mason. Woodes has been... acting really strange."

Her scoff is automatic. "And when isn't he acting strange?"

Brief hostility flashes through Sarah's eyes but she quickly lowers them to the baby. "He's not like that. Before the divorce, we were really happy and he was a very good man. But now it seems there's... something disturbing him. This odd behavior started shortly after he met Richard Guthrie's daughter."

Clenching her jaw, Max tries her best not to say a few truths to this woman's face. Taking a look at her phone screen, she sighs. "It's really late. I should get going. Early shift at the hospital tomorrow."

Sarah forces a smile, nodding her head.

Suddenly, Max feels Aiden gripping her thumb tighter and the strangest feeling crashes over her like a wave when her eyes lock with his.

Her chest tightens so painfully, and her voice comes out strained when she speaks without truly realizing.

"Can I... have a moment alone with him, please?"

Sarah frowns briefly at her words but gives a nod of assent, taking one last look at her son before leaving the nursery.

Tears come to Max's eyes and she lets out a shaky breath, immediately scooping the baby boy up from his crib. His hands go to her face while she walks the nursery slowly, looking down at him and trying to get a hold of her emotions.

Strangely, she feels as if this is a farewell. As if this is the last time she'll see Aiden.

Which makes no sense at all, she'll come back here tomorrow in the afternoon...

But still, her heart is breaking into a million pieces.

And she suddenly wants to make the most out of this moment.

"I am so proud of you, did you know that?" She whispers to the baby, swallowing hard and trying to hold back her tears. "Everyone thought you were going to die. We were even preparing everything already, knowing it was only a matter of days before you were placed in a tiny coffin. But you fought. You didn't have the strength even to breathe on your own, and yet, you fought. You won. And... despite who your father is, you are pure light. Your eyes are pure light. You have so much love inside you. Such a blessing. Your parents don't deserve you."

A tear escapes despite her efforts, and it's instantly absorbed by the fabric of Aiden's onesie. "But they are still your parents nonetheless. I just hope the light inside you will be enough to keep your rotten father from poisoning you too... especially when I'm not around anymore."

Aiden has a soft pout to his lips, letting out a soft coo and tangling his fingers in her hair as she walks to the crib. He fusses slightly when Max places him back in it.

Letting her hand linger on his stomach, she hesitates before leaning down and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

"I love you, baby boy."

Letting out a choked sob, she rushes out of the nursery, not even bothering to say goodbye to Sarah before leaving the house, slamming the front door shut behind her.

Two more tears escape against her will and she wipes them away, finally regaining her composure and raising her head. Her hand seeks her phone in the pocket of her jacket as she walks the dark, empty streets.

_At least she thought they were empty._

Her neutral expression morphs into a suspicious one when sudden footsteps start to follow her after she walks past an alley.

She tries to run. But a strong hand grabs her from behind, the faceless man shoves a wet rag against her nose and mouth, keeping her from breathing until she has no other choice but to inhale the chemicals...

Her last instinct before everything starts to go black is to let her phone drop to the sidewalk.

She knows what's going on here, who's responsible for this. Her phone holds some of Eleanor's secrets, including her current location, and she's not going to hand all that info over to that  _monster_.

Her captor doesn't notice her little stunt and shoves her into the backseat of a car roughly.

The world fades away as he speeds off in the night.

* * *

**12 hours later**

"I said I don't need this shit." The angry redhead spits the last word out. Jack is not intimidated in the slightest.

"Well, this  _shit_... Will more than likely save your life tomorrow in case a shootout begins, so I am going to make sure that both you  _and_  Charles are wearing them when you leave dry land."

She shakes her head, rolling her eyes as they go inside the shady little shop.

Quickly finding the bulletproof vests, he sorts through them, grabbing a smaller one and handing it to Anne before lifting a bigger one on his index finger, bringing it in front of her face in a taunting manner.

"Think this one will fit him?"

She's about to snap at him and shove the bulletproof vest away from her face when a familiar voice sounds from behind them, making them stop.

"I'll be damned."

Jack's smirk vanishes, his little teasing game immediately forgotten as he looks away from the redhead, eyes going to the door at the back of the shop from where a figure had just emerged.

Anne looks back over her shoulder, turning around completely a split second later, her mouth actually hanging open in surprise.

Silence stretches for one brief moment until Jack's smirk returns and he lets out a chuckle.

"Well, look at that."

* * *

His footsteps echo through the short corridor and Charles rubs his forehead briefly, stress taking him over. His uncle kept him at the headquarters all day, he didn't get the chance to sneak away even for a few minutes to come see Eleanor and Davina. Spending the whole day away from them took a toll on his nerves, which prompted him to have a few heated arguments with Teach, most of them over the few upcoming hunts.

He has the feeling his uncle intends to keep him here for good, throwing him in the middle of all the piracy in an attempt to make him let go of the life he's been leading in this new world.

It's not as if the idea isn't appealing. Quite the contrary, he's been yearning for this, ever since his memories were returned. Back then, he wanted nothing but this. Because he had nothing to lose.

But things have changed. His priorities have changed. He has Eleanor to consider now, and it would kill her if she was forced to go back home alone.

Staying here on the long term is not an option. And he really needs to make Teach understand this.

Letting out a heavy sigh, he opens the door to the guest room, desperately needing the comfort of his queen's arms...

But she's nowhere to be seen.

Alarm rises in his chest immediately and he slips into battle mode.

But then the faint sound of her voice fills his ears. And it's coming from his sister's room.

"...the waves play a game, they say yes, I say no. They run up to meet me, and I run from the sea."

It's like the sweetest melody, he feels enchanted by a mermaid's song while slowly making his way to the door down the hall. It's barely open, but he can see the bed through the small crack. Davina's bedside table lamp provides a soft, soothing glow, and the sight he finds actually takes his breath away for a couple of seconds.

His sister, half-asleep. Eleanor's feet hanging off the edge of the bed while she lays on her side, propped up on her left elbow. Her arm touches his sister's head, he sees her fingers caressing the long strands lovingly as she holds a book in her free hand.

"They say no, I say yes. I run back to the edge. I chase the waves home to the sea. There is blue. There is sea spray. In this game, I can't be still."

He's entranced, eyes drinking in the scene hungrily. All the stress seems to vanish as he listens to that voice, that perfect, beautiful voice, the soft accent, the sweet, yet ever firm tone. Eleanor is reading his sister to sleep but little does she know, her words also have a calming effect on him at this very moment.

Her words and the pure poetry of her voice are lulling both brother and sister into a calm state.

"I find a feather in the dry sand, and I send it on a wave to the sea..." She pauses when Davina lets out a soft sigh, her head lolling slightly and signaling she finally succumbed to slumber.

He sees her watching the child's peaceful features for a moment, unable to contain her pure, genuine and loving smile. It's one of the most beautiful expressions Charles has ever seen on her perfect face.

Her eyes return to the book and she finishes in a gentle whisper:

"Then the waves say yes, and I say yes too."

_I say yes too._

Charles just knows, by the glint in her eyes, that she's thinking about them while saying those last two sentences.

_This time, they both finally said yes to each other._

After pressing a kiss to the child's forehead, she gets to her feet and sets the book aside. He sees her turning the bedside table lamp off, plunging the room into darkness. Her footsteps start to make their way to the door and he's ready to receive her in his arms, surprising her, when that sleepy, sweet little voice fills their ears.

"Eleanor?"

"Yes sweetie?"

He hears his sister moving in her bed, his queen's footsteps returning to her side.

"You think Charlie is gonna die tomorrow?"

His chest tightens painfully and he clenches his jaw as Eleanor hesitates, probably preparing her voice so it comes out as calm as possible.

And she succeeds.

"Die? Why are you asking such a thing, sweetheart?"

"I'm not silly. I know where he's going with cousin Billy tomorrow..." She pauses, and Charles thinks he hears her sniffling quietly. "One night, I saw cousin Billy come back from the sea, he had a lot of cuts and he was bleeding. I know it's dangerous when they go to there, and I know that tomorrow Charlie will go too."

Charles lowers his eyes, detecting the briefest hint of sorrow in his queen's voice when she finally finds the strength to talk again.

"No. I don't think he's going to die. Your brother is very, very strong and nothing bad will happen to him. He's just going to the sea tomorrow so he can keep us safer, you and me. You know why?"

"Why?"

Unable to stay put anymore, Charles finally pushes the door open and steps inside the room. His voice resounds, much stronger than Eleanor's and Davina's whispers.

"Because you two are everything I have."

He's able to see them now, the moonlight filtering in through the curtains offering just enough illumination. Eleanor meets his eyes, relief filling her tired face as his sister smiles weakly at him. He forces a smile too, sitting on the edge of her bed and ruffling her hair. "This is why I'll be very careful tomorrow. So I can come back to you and to Eleanor, so I can keep protecting the two of you. Especially you, since she really does know how to take care of herself." He smirks, meeting the blonde's eyes briefly and seeing the warm smile on her lips before focusing his attention back on Davina. "Mary, cousin Billy, Uncle Jack, Aunt Anne, Eleanor and I... We're all here to protect you. I'll never let anything bad happen to you again."

The child smiles, outstretching her arms. He gets the message and leans down so she can hug him.

"I love you, Charlie."

His "love you too" is a quiet whisper. He's really not used to saying those words.

But it's thankfully enough for his sister and she lets him go before coughing twice.

Only then he notices her voice sounded strange.

His eyes meet Eleanor's and she sees the silent question, sighing and joining him on the edge of the mattress.

"She woke up feeling a little off this morning after you left. It got worse once night fell. She's been coughing and running a fever that simply refuses to go away. Mary and I gave her some medicine and she'll take her to the headquarters' medical center tomorrow, but it's probably nothing serious."

He nods, reaching to intertwine his fingers with hers while his free hand went to Davina's forehead.

He has absolutely no idea how to tell how bad a child's fever is just by feeling their forehead, but still, instinct simply took over.

"How are you feeling now, kid?"

She pulls the blanket up to her chin, scowling adorably. "I'm getting a little cold."

Charles reaches for the extra, furry blanket on the foot of the bed, covering the small body with it while Davina coughed another three times. His heart clenches and he caresses her soft hair, eyes raking over her face. Her eyes lack the usual energy, that joyful glint.

"You know... Soon, you'll be feeling better. And I want you to do something when that time comes."

Her eyebrows furrowed in question and Eleanor's eyes move between the two of them while Charles speaks. "There is such a big, wide world out there. You are going to tell me exactly where in this huge paradise of possibilities, you want me to take you. What wonders you want me to show you. And I will do so."

Some of the usual happiness is back in her eyes and she smiles at her big brother. "But what if mama doesn't let me go?"

He shrugs, a half-smile on his lips while he lets his thumb caress Eleanor's hand.

"Then we'll just have to tie her down and take her with us."

Eleanor's stern look is brief and Davina's weak giggle makes the corners of her lips twitch up too.

It's a silent agreement. Eleanor goes back to her previous position, from when she was reading the book, while Charles remains seated at the edge of the mattress. He tells stories and the blonde recognizes them from both his current and previous lives. There are tales of their journey to Somalia, and of his adventures from his pirate days three centuries ago, although of course he leaves out a lot of details that could confuse or scare Davina.

Eleanor is amazed to hear the child-friendly versions of all those epic tales he used to tell her after coming back from his hunts, their naked bodies pressed close together, candles glowing in his tent. He sounded so proud and victorious every time and though she used to roll her eyes, on the inside she was actually very impressed with his feats.

They soon notice the little girl is fast asleep again, breathing peacefully. Slowly, they get to their feet and leave the room.

"Where are Jack and Anne?" She asks quietly while they make their way back to the guest room.

"They went to the city. Jack wanted to buy some stupid bulletproof vests for us."

Eleanor hums in approval, a frown coming to her face when he grabs her wrist, keeping her from going into their room.

"So... You think I'm ' _very, very strong_ '?"

The smack to his chest follows swiftly, much to his amusement.

"I expected you to be yelling and throwing stuff at me, since I refuse to give up on the hunt tomorrow."

She narrows her eyes at him. "That could  _certainly_  be arranged."

Pulling her body to his, he offers her a half smirk, not failing to see the sadness flickering in those perfect blue-green depths.

"But considering this might very well be our last night together... I don't really want to waste it on fighting."

His smirk vanishes, a scowl coming to his face as he reaches to brush her hair behind her ear. "Your lack of faith in me is highly appreciated, as always."

The sarcasm in his voice makes her roll her eyes. He expected her to push him away, but she doesn't.

"Since you want to make the most of tonight... How about we leave this house and go pay our ship a visit?"

He feels the way her fingers tighten around the collar of his leather jacket.

That glint returns to her eyes, a stubborn smile tugging at her lips as she nods at him.

* * *

The old lamp hanging from the ceiling illuminates the small shop as the three people sit at a table. Anne is drinking from a mug of liquor despite Jack's objections stating she should be on her best shape for tomorrow. She simply reminded him that hangovers do not exist in her vocabulary and he decided to let this go, knowing it was useless.

"I knew I wasn't going insane. Months ago, when my memories came back, I just knew it was all real."

Anne leans back on her seat, sharing a look with Jack before they both focus their attention back on an ecstatic Augustus Featherstone.

"Seeing the two of you only confirmed this. I still can't believe this huge coincidence."

Jack smirks, nodding at him. "I used to be skeptical about this thing called fate. But time and again, I see that it actually exists."

Their newly found old ally can't help but agree, still unable to stop smiling. "Pray tell, what brings you two to Africa? I assume you're not from here?"

"We're from the US actually. Los Angeles. Spent our whole lives there, with Charles. He's back too. Our memories came back months ago too." Jack hesitates for a moment, tapping his fingers against the surface of the desk. "We came here seeking Teach."

Sudden realization washes over Featherstone and he actually smirks. "I knew it. All those pirates the authorities never succeeded in finding... I knew it."

The couple stares at him face in silence and he shakes his head. "No worries. I won't tell anyone. Did you find him?"

Jack breathes a sigh of relief, nodding once. "Yes we did. Charles is at his secret kingdom right now, with our crew, and Miss Guthrie-"

"Wait,  _who_?"

His tone is filled with disbelief and Anne finally speaks, confirming his suspicions. "Yeah. Charles probably forgot his brain back in the 18th century. It's tragic."

Jack looks over at her, not failing to notice that her tone lacked the usual acidity that always came whenever she talked about this particular subject.

_Strange._

"Actually..." He begins, looking at the other man's face again. "...it's a long story. That woman is completely changed now, and she has proven many times that her loyalty lies with him now."

Featherstone frowns, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, but I find that very hard to believe."

"Completely understandable." Jack tells him with a half-smile, and there's a heavy silence for a few moments.

Until Featherstone clears his throat, his eyes glowing with hope when he asks them the question they knew was bound to come.

"Where is she?"

Jack has to smile at that.

"She's in LA. Safe and sound."

"And she remembers?"

Anne answers for him, unable to stop smirking, having grown somewhat intimate with Idelle too during the times she spent at Max's place. They used to smoke and drink together regularly.

"That bitch got really close to Eleanor, even after we remembered everything." She downs her liquor as Featherstone raises his eyebrows. "So be careful. But go to her. I think she'll like to see you again."

His eyes light up again. "I will do just that."

"Would you like to travel with us? We'll be going back to Nassau sooner or later, and she has plans of moving to the Island."

He shakes his head at Jack's words. "Thank you for your altruism, but I don't want to waste any more time. I'll be leaving for LA this week."

Jack lets out a brief laugh.

"I imagined that would be your answer, yes. It's only natural." He gets to his feet, holding the bulletproof vests and throwing the redhead a look. "Getting late, darling. You know you should get some sleep before the big time comes tomorrow."

She nods, getting up from her chair too while Featherstone did the same so he could walk to the door with them.

Just before they leave, Jack reaches to shake hands with him, a crooked smirk on his face. "Best of luck on your journey and reunion with your lady. Hopefully we will all be together back home soon."

* * *

For the first time ever, stepping foot on the deck of their ship does nothing to calm Eleanor's nerves, the usually soothing rise and fall only reminding her that tomorrow, her criminal is going to be out there in the open sea risking his life.

With a scowl, she watches as he checks the ropes, making sure that everything was properly secured before they could retire to the safety and warmth of their little nest.

_The ropes..._

Her heart skips a beat, scowl vanishing as she looks down at a few spare ones, resting on a barrel. Her fingers run over them on their own accord, and the rough material makes her swallow hard.

Charles is watching her closely when she meets his eyes again, one of his eyebrows raised, and she refuses to let him win this. Clearing her throat, she regains her composure and raises her chin at him.

"More than once... You mentioned something about ropes. I'm starting to think you're not up to actually following through with that-"

He has her against one of the masts in a heartbeat, her words dying in her throat as her back hits the wood, his lips claiming hers roughly. His hands squeeze her outer thighs, holding her lower body flush against his and she smirks into their kiss.

Of course he could never disappoint her. Not when it comes to this.

_He's not a certain man she once had the misfortune of marrying._

The cruel thought only spurs her on and like it happens most times, she feels the urge to enjoy this to the fullest, now that she can  _finally_ have it again.

He doesn't ask if she's sure, and next thing she knows, he's lifting her from the wooden floor. Her legs lock around his hips automatically as he makes his way to the hatch door behind the helm, one of his hands supporting her weight... And the other grabbing two or three ropes from the barrel as he walks past it. She notices, and it sends the most delicious shiver down her spine.

He has to put her down in order to open the hatch and she descends into the darkness of their cabin first. There's a sudden, nagging discomfort. For a moment, Eleanor could swear her nose is still able to detect the faintest trace of the Spaniard's blood, his putrid smell...

It's gone as soon as Charles comes down the ladder though, and he does make sure to check every corner of their sleeping quarters  _and_  the joined bathroom before locking both the big wooden door and the hatch while she moves to sit on their bunk.

No one can come in now. It's just  _them_.

_No one can get out either..._

"Clothes off. Then lay down."

Her scowl is automatic and her first reaction is to scoff. He raises an eyebrow at this, though his eyes are filled with amusement and... Is that a brief hint of pride?

"You just asked me to tie you down and you can't follow an order?"

She hesitates as he stops right in front of the bunk, her eyes dropping to the ropes in his hand.

Only now does she truly realize what she asked. It's not something she ever thought she'd even  _want_  to try.

And she just can't ignore the heat between her thighs.

His free hand reaches to caress her chin, angling her head up, and his eyes have softened a little when she meets them again.

"If you're not okay with this, tell me now."

Her eyes are wide, shining with partially veiled curiosity and desire as she stares up at him.

"I trust you."

To him, that statement has much more value than those other three little words they refuse to say to each other.

Eyes darkening again, he nods down at her and steps away from the bunk. "Then do as I said."

For some reason, she resists the urge of rolling her eyes, chin raised high as she gets to her feet and removes each garment slowly, making a show, her eyes locked with his as he leans against his desk. His arms are crossed, he's still holding the ropes and the predatory look on his face sends the sweetest anticipation coursing through her veins.

Things  _always_  get very, very interesting when he has that look.

Once done, she sits on the bunk again, moving to lay down as he instructed. But it seems he suddenly changed his mind.

"Wait."

His eyes are glued to her neck and she notices his hands are moving, manipulating one of the ropes, but in the darkness she's unable to see what he's doing.

Until he steps into the light from one of their oil lamps, walking until he stood right beside the bunk again.

Her fingers grasp at the sheets on either sides of her thighs and she refuses to look away even as her mouth goes dry.

When was the last time she felt so nervous?

His index finger tilts her chin up and her eyes remain locked with his, her chest heaving as he slowly, carefully places the noose around her neck.

And all the mixed emotions of this intense moment actually knock the breath out of her lungs for a few seconds.

His eyes have a strange glow to them as he lets his thumb caress her jawline before his fingers travel to her neck, touching the skin right next to the rope. It's not tight, yet, and she feels extremely conflicted.

It's a little humiliating, she remembers this could have actually been her own fate too... And it's simply impossible not to remember the sight of his hanging body, or the way he looked at her with that rope around his neck centuries ago.

But at the same time this feels weirdly exhilarating.

Butterflies fill her stomach, she can't wait to see what will come next, not hesitating in the slightest to let him take full control for tonight. It's actually refreshing and there's nowhere else she'd rather be right now.

She doesn't think she'll regret this.

He walks back to the desk, grabbing the two other ropes, and she finally lets out the breath she had been holding.

Wordlessly, he reaches for her left hand and ties the rough material around her wrist with practiced ease. It's unlike any other knot she's ever seen, and he does the same to her other wrist, eyes focused on his work. She's too entranced and he has to splay his hand over her collarbones and chest, pushing her briefly. She gets the message and finally lays down on the mattress, watching as he brought the ends of the ropes restraining her wrists to two of the small iron loops over their bunk. Eleanor never understood why they existed, but in this moment she couldn't find them more appropriate.

Her arms are now tied to the wall, leaving her breasts fully exposed. He can't help himself, bringing his right hand to squeeze one of them just the way she likes. Her eyes fall closed, the anticipation only growing.

But then his hand is suddenly gone, and so is his body right next to the bunk.

Blue-green eyes snap open and she scowls, watching as he made his way over to their cabinet to retrieve a bottle of rum.

He doesn't even look at her, silently sitting behind his desk and propping his feet up on its surface as usual.

_He can't be serious._

Her eyes narrow as she watches him fill his mug and take a drink before he finally looks over at her, drinking in the sight.

"You have  _got_  to be kidding me."

The left corner of his lips twitch up. The sadistic glint in his eyes as he watches her is unsettling and alluring at the same time and she clenches her jaw, pulling at the ropes restraining her wrists experimentally. Whatever it is the bastard did, the knots only get tighter when she tries to break free.

Things get worse when he decides to remove his jacket and shirt, exposing those muscles she loves so much. The urge to run her fingers over them is so damn strong.

And her patience is running out.

"I swear to God, if you don't come here and stop with this bullshit right now-"

"You'll do what?" His smug half smirk makes her clench her jaw hard, that satisfied glint in his eyes sending a wave of irritation crashing over her. "It's not like you can go anywhere. The more you fight, the tighter those knots will become. Unless you want to rub yours wrists raw, I suggest you stay put."

She swallows hard, watching as he takes a swig of his rum. His eyes are raking over her body and she feels utterly exposed.

This is  _not_  what she signed up for.

What the hell did she just get herself into?

Letting out an impatient huff, she stares up at the wooden ceiling, doing her very best to ignore his hungry gaze.

All her lust had faded away the very second he started this stupid little game, and she was so angry... Her intentions were not to let him touch her anymore, after all she knew that all she had to do was say  _no_  and he wouldn't force himself on her, even if she was tied up and spread out like a fine banquet.

A frown comes to her face. If she's really not liking this situation... Then why didn't she put an end to it already?

Her eyes meet his again and he smirks fully, letting her know he's reading her like a book.

And despite her wishes of staying mad at him, her irritation is slowly but surely seeping away. His unwavering gaze on her... Even after all those women he slept with throughout his two lives, she knows he has eyes only for  _her_. She is the only one he desires.

It makes her feel so powerful, despite her current situation.

This thought slowly starts to reawaken something in the pit of her stomach, heat flaring up between her legs again. Unable to help herself, she presses her thighs together, needing some friction...

"Keep doing that and I'll tie your ankles too."

Snapping her head in his direction, she scoffs. "Seriously?"

He just shrugs, finishing his mug and re-filling it. "You're the one who asked for this. Now deal with the consequences."

Her murderous glare only makes his smirk widen and she rolls her eyes, staring up at the ceiling again and trying hard to keep her legs still.

It's one of the hardest things she ever did.

All she wants is some relief, and even as she tries to stop thinking about this, to get her body to calm down again, it's simply impossible. Just like the knots, it seems that the harder she fights, the stronger her desire grows.

And it's driving her insane.

"How long will you keep this up?"

He's having way to much fun with her suffering. His eyes stay glued to her body even as he takes a drink from the mug.

"For as long as I want."

Fuck, she  _hates_  him.

What a sight it must be for him. Her, tied up in bed, in his ship, completely naked with a noose around her neck.

How the hell did she put herself in this situation?

Eleanor tries to focus on her breathing. To stop herself from wanting him. But she feels  _empty_. And sensitive. Everything, from the sheets against her naked back, the weight of the noose, the rough material of the ropes restraining her wrists, to the cool air hitting her exposed skin and his eyes on her...

She can't take it anymore.

After what feels like  _hours,_  Charles sets his mug aside and gets to his feet. She stares at him as he makes his way over to the bunk, stopping just beside it. Reaching for her neck with his left hand, he lets fingers trace the rope for a moment before they start their way down to her collarbone, the valley of her breasts, her stomach, so teasingly  _slow_.

Her chest is heaving, and when she thinks he'll finally reach the spot where she needs him the most, he changes the route, fingers trailing over her right thigh.

Her eyes squeeze shut and he repeats this torturous process one, two three other times.

" _Charles_ -"

It doesn't sound like her own voice. She's taken aback by the needy, desperate tone. But it seems she just gave him exactly what he wanted.

With a wicked smirk, he climbs into the bunk after discarding the rest of his clothes. Lips and teeth attack her breasts and all she wants is to tangle her fingers in his hair, but the ropes make it impossible.

_Such vulnerability..._

And the worst part is; she is absolutely  _loving_ this.

She can't help but smile wide when he begins to kiss and nip his way down her stomach, the relief she so desperately needs so damn close she can already taste it...

And he avoids that spot again, stopping just below her navel.

A choked sound leaves her lips and she tries pulling at the ropes again in another attempt at breaking free that fails miserably.

Swallowing hard, she stares at the ceiling while Charles leaves bites and kisses on her overheated skin. His husky voice only makes her need grow even stronger.

"You know what you have to do."

Her jaw clenches.

_No_. She has already begged once, and it was a one-time thing.

There is no way in hell she will do it again, even if he keeps this torture up until dawn comes.

It's what Eleanor keeps trying to tell herself, but with each press of his lips, with each swipe of the tip of his tongue, each time his teeth sink gently into her skin, his thumbs rubbing teasing circles on her inner thighs, so damn close...

" _Please_."

It escapes against her will and she silently curses her traitorous mouth.

Only for a second.

Because after her plea he finally,  _finally_  gives her what she needs.

She can't believe how good it feels, his face disappearing between her thighs, tongue and fingers working her expertly as always, and she feels like this is  _paradise_.

Nonsense tumbles from her lips, his name, even more pleas, her fists clenching with the need to hold him in place, making sure he won't pull away. But all she can do is undulate her hips, rocking softly against his face, shamelessly.

Suddenly this whole idea doesn't seem so bad anymore.

Until she notices he's keeping her on the edge on purpose, not giving her enough, and she's yearning for more,  _needing_  it so desperately.

Her cries finally make him give in and he lifts his head, eyes locking with hers as he makes a show of licking his lips slowly. Her eyes narrow and she lets out a soft whine, fearing he'll keep this up for even longer.

But his resolve could only last so long, and her eyes light up with hope and anticipation when he crawls his way closer, her legs going around his hips on their own accord. She's soaking wet, and it takes only a second until he's buried to the hilt inside her, groaning at the sensation while she reacted in a  _much_  louder way.

Her eyes are completely hazy with desire, that look he loves so much, as they lock with his.

She's so worked up by now that it takes only a handful of trusts before she's falling hard. Her whole body trembles, blue-green eyes squeezing shut, his name a prayer on her lips.

Her chest is heaving when she opens her eyes again, trying to recover, her fists relaxing. His gaze drops to the noose, and he stops immediately.

Confused and still not fully back to earth yet, she watches while he unties her wrists, and she's suddenly grateful for the relief; the ropes were just starting to hurt her skin.

But if she thought this meant things would be calmer now, she is so very mistaken.

Next thing she knows, Charles somehow managed to get her limp body on all fours, and her heart skips a beat when she feels him pull on the end of the rope around her neck, his lips coming close to her ear.

"Want to know how it feels?"

Detecting the hint of anger in his voice, she breathes in sharply.

And then he  _pulls_.

Eleanor wasn't expecting it to be so strong, so violent. Her air supply is cut off instantly, and when he starts to move inside her again...

Those two sensations mixed together make her want to  _scream_.

Her fists clench around the sheets, the rough material of the rope digging into the delicate skin of her neck painfully, she hears his heavy breathing close to her ear and occasionally, he slows down, loosening the noose and letting her breathe a few times while trailing open mouthed kisses over her shoulder. It never lasts more than a few seconds though, and every time he goes back to his brutal vengeance it gets stronger, harsher, the pressure on her neck growing each time, until her vision actually starts to go black.

She has no idea how she doesn't collapse.

And when Eleanor realizes it, she's right on the edge again, actually scared to let go, the pleasure is so strong, she's not sure if she can take it. But he's having none of it, pulling the end of the rope again and picking up the pace of his thrusts until she  _screams_ , body shuddering as she finally loses her strength, arms and legs giving out while wave after wave of pure, blinding pleasure crashed over her, to the point she's not sure if it will ever come to an end.

Charles lets go of the rope, letting her breathe and thrusting with abandon as she laid on her stomach. In a matter of seconds he lets out a grunt of her name, finally stilling and burying his face in her hair.

Only then her own pleasure subsides too, their ragged breathing filling the cabin for a few moments. Her eyes are hooded as he moves away, getting to his feet and forcing her to roll over before pulling her into a sitting position. Blue eyes finally softening, he reaches to pull the noose over her head. His fingers inspect the bruises, and he lets out a heavy sigh.

She's left alone while he goes retrieve something from their bathroom, her still trembling hand moving to her neck.

Eleanor can't stop herself from smiling, eyes shining with joy for what they just shared here.

He comes back seconds later, holding some ointment in his hand. His muscles are covered in sweat, but then again, she's in the same state.

It doesn't feel like it's the same man.

That brutal animal from just a few minutes ago is now tenderly caring for the bruises left by the ropes on her neck and wrists. Once he's done, she doesn't let him move away from the bunk.

"You're ok?"

His voice is like the most soothing melody and she nods against his chest, unable to stop herself from smiling again as he moves them so they're laying down on the mattress, his arms safely around her.

His fingers caressing her shoulder and Charles can't take his eyes off her face.

She offers her the most beautiful, sincere look, grasping at his anchor pendant. "What?"

"You have any idea how beautiful you are?"

He can't believe his own eyes, but she  _blushes_ , even if it's barely noticeable.

Chuckling softly, she nuzzles his neck.

"Why the fuck did we wait so long to do this?" Is the last thing she says before sleep claims her, and Charles can't help but smirk.

He kisses her forehead, eyes falling closed too.

* * *

His jaw is clenched hard as he stands at the bow.

He just came to check on his ship, and he was forced to hear the screams from his nephew's cabin on the Ranger.

Whatever it is these two were doing tonight, it was surely intense. Just another proof that their bond is stronger than it ever was before.

It makes him  _livid_.

Teach knows it's a matter of time before things go wrong. He tried to warn his stubborn nephew, but it seems words will simply not do.

He'll need to do this the hard way.

_Not that he minds it._

It's time he puts an end to this.

With a dark half smirk, he watches from the Revenge as the lights go out in the captain's quarters of the other ship.

* * *

Waves crash against the hull, the morning light invading the cabin as he gets ready.

His gun is prepared, knife strapped to his waist. His hair is styled just as in the past, and all he needs now is the bulletproof vest. Jack will give it to him when they meet at the main harbor.

Feeling as if someone's staring at him, he turns around, finding Eleanor sitting up on the bunk, holding the blankets to her naked chest. Her hair is a wild mess, her eyes wide and shining with unshed tears.

"Charles... Please, let this go. Let's just get Davina, the crew and leave this place behind. Please, let's just go back home where we belong."

She's trying one last time, one last desperate attempt. Whatever bad feeling it is she has about this hunt, it must be very strong.

But he makes his own fate.

"You stay with Davina the whole day. Teach can't hurt you while you're in her presence."

With those words, he leaves the cabin.

Failing to see the lone tear that runs down his queen's face.

* * *

The ship they took is now just a tiny point in the distance, and she stands at Jack's side as they stare at it in silence.

Finally, he lets out a worried sigh, looking over at her.

His eyes move to her neck, his eyebrows raising as he forces a weak smile. "Inverting the roles, are we?"

She scoffs, confirming his suspicions, and he shrugs. "Glad to see you two are now able to play games about this whole affair."

The sad glint in her eyes is heartbreaking as she stares at the distancing ship.

"He still refuses to forgive me."

"If I'm completely honest with you, darling... I don't think he ever will."

"I know."

There's a heavy silence after her answer, and she stiffens briefly when Jack brings a hesitant arm around her shoulders.

"These two idiots will be okay. You and I will only be taking care of non-serious wounds tonight, I assure you."

She meets his eyes for a moment, actually moved by his concern for her. With a barely noticeable smile, she nods once before resting her head on his shoulder while he squeezed her arm reassuringly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone is having a nice 2018 so far! It's been a while since I wrote a chapter this long, but I loved writing this one. Things are about to get serious, so buckle up ;)


	19. I'll Stand in Your Way

_**Los Angeles** _

_**12 years ago** _

_The motorcycle comes to a stop in the shady alley and he waits until the 13-year-old gets off it before doing the same. It's three hours before dawn, the streets are completely empty, and the alley is hidden enough while also providing a good escape route in case things go bad._

_Handing the gloves and the robber's mask to the girl, he reaches to pull her hood over her head, making sure her red hair was completely covered._

_"We go in together and you don't leave my side for anything in the world. Jack would have a fit if something happened to you."_

_In truth, he's only saying that out of concern for her, and they both know that. Anne has grown on him over the last eight years they spent together. But they don't need to put that into words._

_It's the first time he takes her to a robbery with him. She's been insisting for months now, and Charles finally caved._

_Their footsteps echo in the night air, dogs barking in the distance._

_Making sure no one was around, Charles stares at their target, the store across the the street._

_"Think you can pick the lock like I taught you?"_

_Anne nods, their eyes locking one last time. They smirk at each other, and he looks at the store again._

_"Time to hunt then, Red."_

* * *

**Present days**

They can see it already.

Their target is coming in their direction, completely unaware of the danger.

It's not too big but not small either, about the same size as their own ship. They turned off the engines about an hour ago to wait for it. As the men get everything ready, Charles stands at the bow with Anne. Taking his eyes off their target, he looks at her face.

"No matter what happens, we stick together. Don't even think about leaving my side."

Déjà vu washes over them both and she nods, eyes returning to the cargo ship. It's now following a slightly different route, not coming straight at them anymore. There's nothing but silence, the men standing behind them, waiting, a heavy tension hanging in the air as the minutes drag by.

Finally, Charles looks at one of the men over his shoulder and nods once. He immediately obeys the silent order, launching the distress rocket.

They wait to see whether their target will take the bait or if they will need to give chase. And a smirk tugs at Charles' lips when the ship changes its route, now coming straight towards them again.

His eyes meet Anne's again and she can't help but smirk too, anticipation written all over her face as he speaks.

"Time to hunt."

* * *

The door opens behind the cage, but Max refuses to move or even look over her shoulder.

Even the sound of his footsteps are utterly  _sickening_  those expensive shoes against the cold, stone floor. She hears the keys jingling, hears him unlocking the cage and stepping inside. The look on his face when he comes into her field of vision is a warning. A warning that tells her to cooperate this time.

And even if she's sitting on a metal chair, her arms on the surface of the cold table in front of her, wrists bruised as the handcuffs dig into her skin mercilessly, she still raises her chin in defiance, refusing to back down in front of her captor.

His business suit makes her want to vomit as he sits on the other chair, across from her. That scar makes her jaw clench involuntarily.

"I am well aware you remember everything, just as I do."

Max keeps his stare, staying silent and keeping her face as neutral as she possibly can while he speaks in that snob tone that makes her skin crawl.

It reminds her so  _much_  of Richard's voice.

"I was hoping we could simply hack into your phone and find the information I need. But since you apparently got rid of it, I'm afraid we will have to do this the hard way." She can't help but smirk at his frustration. It seems to make him angry, and he leans forward on his seat. The somewhat friendly mask he had been wearing falls. "I don't understand you. You made Eleanor believe you were her friend. You made her think she could trust you. And now that she needs you the most, you refuse to cooperate."

Her eyes narrow in confusion but Max still stays silent, waiting and trying to understand what he was talking about.

_Did he go insane?_

"You are in league with that monster. The one who kidnapped her and took her away from me while I was in a coma, unable to keep her safe. This is why you refuse to help, isn't it?"

So he actually believes Eleanor was taken against her will. Despite the situation, Max can't help but find his madness interesting.

His jaw clenches at her silence.

"God only knows what he's doing to her. I don't know what he offered you in exchange for your silence, but surely, you are well aware I can offer much more? Everyone has a price. Name yours. I promise I will let you walk out of here unharmed. And rich."

She has to scoff at that, shaking her head at his words and finally looking away. His face makes her  _sick_.

And his voice is growing more aggressive.

"She is suffering. Even if you have no regard whatsoever for her, you are still a woman. Can you sleep at night, knowing you're letting another woman go through all this pain and distress in the hands of a kidnapper, a filthy rapist-"

Eyes filling with indignation, she snaps her head back in his direction, unable to hold her tongue anymore. "Are you talking about Vane, or about  _yourself_?"

Her sudden outburst leaves Rogers speechless for a moment. It's the first time she says anything since the moment she woke up, handcuffed in this cage. The room around it is dark, she supposes it's the mansion's basement.

Her captor blinks, eyes cold as ice. "I would never do something to harm her. She is my  _wife_. It is my duty to keep her safe-"

Max's laugh echoes through the dark basement. Her eyes are filled with amusement, scorn and hatred as she shakes her head. "' _Keep her safe_ '? Like you did three hundred years ago?"

She can see her words hit him right where it hurts. Exactly what she aimed for in the first place.

And suddenly, she wants to cause more pain. To play along with his madness. Leaning forward and raising her chin, she laughs cruelly at him again.

"You let your own wife die. It was a horrible,  _painful_  death, and it was all thanks to  _you_. Because of your stupidity, Eleanor and your child perished. And now, when you got the chance to redeem yourself... You let her be taken away, right under your nose." She pauses and shakes her head, clicking her tongue. "You're not too good at keeping her safe, are you?"

His jaw is clenched hard and for a moment, she almost regrets what she just did.

But then a smirk tugs at his lips and he gets to his feet. "You leave me no other choice. The next time I come here, I'm afraid I will need to resort... to more violent tactics. But I  _will_  get the answers I want. You can be sure of that."

He walks behind her chair, chuckling briefly. It sends a shudder down her spine. "You probably think your housemate will try to help. Don't you?"

Her neutral expression falls, a frown coming to her face as sudden realization washes over her.

_He did something to Idelle._

Tears try to come to her eyes but she keeps the strong facade up, chin raised high as he stops at her side, showing her his phone. She's actually scared of what she'll see, not sure if she could bear the sight of her friend's dead body...

But relief takes her over when her eyes finally drop to the screen.

_She's alive._

Trapped in a cell, but alive.

Suddenly, he reaches to brush her hair away from her face, his cold hand touching her neck. She's completely nauseated.

Eyes locking with his, she clenches her jaw hard.

"Maybe you should start thinking about cooperating. It would be a shame if something happened to that beautiful friend of yours, wouldn't it?"

Just as he says those words, she detects movement from the screen and looks down at it again to see Ned Low coming to stand in front of Idelle's cell. She moves as further away from him as she can, but the threat is clear as the light of day.

Overtaken by rage and hatred, Max meets his eyes again.

The spit to his face takes him by surprise and he's frozen for a moment. Then disgust fills his eyes and he reaches to wipe it away before storming out of the cage, locking it quickly.

As he leaves the basement, Max lets out a shaky breath, tears burning in her eyes.

* * *

They're quick to board the cargo ship, and the clueless crew only takes one second to realize something's off about their so called new passengers, due to the robber's masks covering their faces.

But it's too late, and Keswick has already grabbed one of the men, his knife at his throat. It's a warning, and the rest of them stay put.

But they know there must be more in the ship.

"Lock them somewhere. Make sure you take their phones and whatever else they can use to call for help." Charles tells them, keeping his guard up and making sure to keep some of his attention on Anne. "After that, go find the rest. Take a hostage, and remember not to kill anyone."

It's his uncle's policy. They never kill. Taking cargo is one thing, but taking lives would only bring problems to them. Murderer arouses immediate anger from the rest of the world. It would prompt the authorities to search for them with much more effort, and that was not a risk Teach was willing to take.

"You and I go check the cargo and see what we can take." He tells Anne and she nods before start to walk away, the men following his orders.

Charles keeps himself in full alert mode as they check the containers, paying attention to any sort of commotion they could hear. It seems this is going to be easier than he expected, and that all too familiar adrenaline is coursing through his veins.

How he  _missed_  this.

One by one, they break the containers open, checking the goods and merchandise they held and making mental notes of what to take.

Suddenly, his senses scream and Charles abruptly pulls the redhead inside one of the containers with him.

The bullet barely misses her head, ricocheting off the metal of their cover.

" _Shit_." She spits the curse out, and he gives her arm a quick squeeze before taking a quick peek outside.

Another shot; for a moment the criminal thought he was dead.

Whoever it is, he's quick.

Charles' brain races and he walks to the other side of the container, looking outside and seeing the coast was clear from there.

"You stay here. He won't come any closer." He says to Anne, making sure to keep his voice as quiet as possible. "I'll go take care of him."

She nods, eyes silently telling him to be careful.

The containers form corridors on the deck and he navigates through them carefully, while also trying to be quick.

His decision of leaving Anne was a risky one but it's not like he had any other choice. But he'll find the shooter before the bastard even gets the chance to get closer to her.

He'll never let anything happen to his protégée.

Heart beating wildly, he peeks his head around yet another corner. And finally sees a middle aged man taking cover near Anne's hiding place.

He's too concentrated, holding his gun to his chest. Stealthy as a cat, Charles makes his way closer and closer. And just as the shooter makes a move to turn around, he grabs the rifle hanging from his shoulder and hits it against the back of the man's head.

He falls unconscious immediately and Charles whistles for the redhead to come out of hiding. Her sigh of relief is barely noticeable but she still allows herself to smile brightly at him. Just then, Billy joins the two, just a little out of breath.

"We found a few others below deck. All of them are locked up and we think there's no one else, but Keswick is still holding the hostage just in case."

Charles nods at him and takes his mask off, gesturing to the unconscious man. "Take this one and lock him with the others. Make sure they have enough supplies to survive until someone comes to rescue them."

Just as Billy obeys and throws the shooter over his shoulder, the rest of their men come over and start to take the merchandise from the containers they opened.

Eyes locking with Anne's again, he can't help his half smirk. She responds to it with one of her own and he squeezes her shoulder before they go help the men with the cargo.

* * *

They're waiting for the two hours to pass. The sun is almost setting, and the adrenaline is passing.

He couldn't be happier.

Things went much better than they expected, Billy told him it had been a while since the last time they had such a safe, clean hunt. No one got injured, and their loot was above all their expectations.

His uncle will be very satisfied.

And probably even more inclined to keep him in Somalia.

Charles lowers his eyes to the sea, once again plagued by these thoughts. What's gonna happen when they decide to leave and go back home? Will Teach let them go?

He's brought back to the here and now as Anne comes to stand at his side, the wind blowing on her hair.

"Just like the good old days.  _Almost_  feels like home." He meets her eyes and she sighs, shaking her head. "But it's not. We're far away from it, and the longer we stay, the more I wonder... Will we ever go back?"

He frowns at her words.

"Her family is there. Everything she holds dear is there." He pauses to light a cigarette, handing another to his protégée and letting her light it on his. After blowing out the smoke slowly, he looks at the horizon. "We  _will_  go back. No matter how, even if we need to sneak away with the ship in the middle of the night."

"And the child?"

Charles hesitates. He's been thinking about this too, waiting for the right time to talk to Mary, and preparing his arguments. His mind is made up, there is no way in hell he's going to leave his sister behind. He plans to take both her and Mary back to Nassau with them for good, and he will not accept " _no"_  for an answer.

"They're coming with us. Her and Mary."

Anne has to smirk. "And does Mary know about that?"

His eyes stay glued to the horizon as he takes a drag from the cigarette.

"She will. Soon enough."

* * *

Escorted by Jack, Eleanor walks out of the building, eyes glued to the ocean. It's about time they come back already, and her heart is almost ripping her chest open from the inside. The gentle breeze blows on fabric of her skirt and they walk all the way to the main harbor.

The tension could be cut with a knife, their eyes fixed on the horizon, searching eagerly for any signs of the ship.

There's nothing.

She looks over at Jack and he reaches to squeeze her hand reassuringly, forcing a smile. But she sees right through him; he is now just as worried as she is.

"Where the fuck is the ship? Where are they?"

He stares at her face for a second, smile vanishing. His eyes go back to searching the ocean and Eleanor feels her heart sink.

10 minutes go by. Then 20, half an hour... And there's still nothing.

Her breathing is staring to become heavier, her palm sweating against Jack's, and tears threaten to come to her eyes. She's already assuming the worst, preparing herself mentally to say goodbye to the man she loves  _again_ , and to contact Flint so he can come get her out of this fucking place safely-

A small spot appears on the horizon.

She shares a look with Jack but they refuse to feel hopeful just yet.

Minutes drag by endlessly as they wait for it to come closer. She watches as Jack lets go of her hand and brings the spyglass to his face, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her skirt impatiently.

And it feels as if a huge weight has just been lifted from her shoulders when he lowers the spyglass and meets her eyes with a bright smile on his face.

"They're back."

Eleanor can't stop herself from laughing in pure joy, throwing her arms around his neck.

* * *

She doesn't give a fuck if the deck of their ship is filled with drunk men celebrating. She doesn't give a fuck if his uncle is watching everything from the helm. All she cares about is the happiness taking her over, the relief to have her criminal here, perfectly safe and well.

His surprise is clear as day when she throws herself into his arms, kissing his lips as if they're alone in the privacy of their cabin.

It only takes him a second to react and a quiet moan sounds at the back of her throat when he presses her against the nearest mast.

Opening her eyes just in time to see Teach lower his head in sorrow and turn his back to the scene, Eleanor smirks victoriously into the kiss and lets her eyes fall closed again.

When Charles pulls away to capture her earlobe between his teeth, she curls her fingers around the collar of his jacket.

"We should at least  _try_  to spend half an hour celebrating up here. We are the hosts."

He rolls his eyes but gives her a half smile, letting his thumb caress her chin briefly.

"I'll go get us some alcohol then."

Eleanor nods at him, unable to stop herself from smiling like a love-struck fool as he walks away.

Taking a look around the deck, she sighs happily.

They took the Ranger out to the main harbor for this celebration. Their own crew mingle with the men who went hunting earlier. It's a shame Davina couldn't come; the poor little girl got worse and Mary is still at the headquarters' medical center with her.

She'll make sure to go see her later with Charles.

Jack is sitting on the lounge chair near the bow, Anne is laying down and using his head as a pillow, her eyes closed as she smokes. He shakes his head and smirks at her and she can't help but laugh like a teenager who was just kissed by her crush on the prom night.

Looking up at the stars, Eleanor gives in and silently thanks whatever higher power there is for the safe return of the man she loves.

* * *

The loud music and cheering of the men sound so distant to him as Teach stands at the helm, lost in thought.

His plan doesn't seem to be working.

It doesn't look like the whole Richard thing will be enough to make Charles see reason.

He can't let his nephew keep putting his safety at risk, not for a day longer, not for a  _minute_  longer.

It doesn't matter if Charles will hate him for this. All that matters is that he'll finally be ridden of this  _curse_.

Hatred making his blood boil, he waits, eyes fixed on his clueless target across the deck.

A cruel smirk graces his features.

The time has finally come.

* * *

All the happiness suddenly evaporates in the air.

Her ears ring, her sixth sense screaming...

It all happens in slow motion.

She turns around, only to find her enemy's gun pointed right at her.

He's the one with that victorious little smirk on his lips now, and before she can even try to react, he pulls the trigger.

It all happens in less than a second, but for her, it feels like an eternity.

She always thought people felt it when they got shot, even if for only a moment before death came to kiss their lips.

But there's nothing, her eyes squeeze shut on their own accord...

And as the shot resounds in the air Eleanor opens them just in time to see a flash of brown leather and familiar dark, long hair, moving unnaturally fast and pushing her to the ground.

She ends up hitting her head on the wood of the deck when she falls, and her vision swims for a moment before her eyes regain their focus.

_She's still alive._

And there's nothing but silence.

Eleanor raises her head slowly. Teach is still planted to his spot, the gun still raised in the air. But he looks pale like a ghost, eyes wide, and  _why is his hand trembling_?

There's a strangled gasp from Anne.

She quickly notices that Charles is on the floor too, right next to her.

_Unmoving._

The blood puddling on the wooden floor makes her wish she was actually dead.

It was nothing but a second of stillness and surprise. But the frenzy begins instantly as Eleanor's scream of despair cuts the silence like a knife, a voice filled with anguish that no one, not even herself, recognizes as her own.

" _NO_!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the cliffhanger, and please don't kill me.


	20. Actions Speak Louder

**_Los Angeles_ **

**_6 years ago_ **

_The raging storm outside puts a smile on Mary's face. She always loved this kind of weather, even though it sometimes makes her uneasy, for some reason._

_Sitting on the bed, she counts the money from her last hunt, taking her time and drinking from a glass of vodka._

_Her peace is broken when the door to her small hideout is thrown open and she immediately reaches for her gun, easily slipping into combat mode._

_But the dark haired beauty relaxes when she sees who it is._

_The sarcastic little smirk she always uses to greet him fades away when she sees the state he's in._

_Soaked to the bone, leaning against the wall, one hand gripping his right shoulder._

_She can see the blood._

_"What the hell happened to you?"_

_"Got shot."_

_His tone is casual, as if he just said he took a walk in the park._

_She rushes to him, prying his hand away to examine the wound before pulling him towards the bed despite his grunt of protest._

_Slapping his good shoulder, she gives him a hard look._

_"You came here for my help. So now stop being a stubborn asshole and accept it."_

_Her tone is firm, leaving no room for argument. It's the voice she always uses to let him know she's not in the mood for his bullshit._

_She forces him to sit on the mattress and pulls his shirt over his head. His face contorts in pain only for a split second. Feeling his eyes on her, Mary searches around for whatever medical supplies she could find._

_"Jack and Anne are out of town. They went to Vegas for the weekend, some stupid, crazy romantic getaway. Jack planned this as a gift because of her birthday. And I tried to take care of the wound myself, but..."_

_Mary stops, turning around to face him with some rubbing alcohol and tweezers in hand. Her eyes are filled with disbelief._

_"You rode the motorcycle in this storm, all the way from your hideout, with a gunshot wound."_

_He just shrugs._

_Sighing heavily, Mary shakes her head._

_"Okay... Let's do this."_

_"Just pull this damned thing out-"_

_She examines his shoulder again, using some clean rags to get the blood out of the way._

_"You do know it's usually not advised to pull a bullet out. Maybe you should go seek professional help."_

_Charles scoffs at her words, shaking his head. "Just pull it out. I'll be fine."_

_The roll of her eyes is automatic._

_But she obeys._

_"You're lucky I have these tweezers in here." She brings said tool to the wound, biting her lip. "Okay. Hang on. Probably gonna hurt like a bitch."_

_He doesn't reply, and she takes a deep breath._

_Luckily, the bullet didn't get too deep. She finds it easily, noticing the muscles of his arm straining. But he shows no other sign of pain and she's actually very impressed. He should be crying out in agony right now._

_But Charles doesn't even flinch as she pulls the bullet out. The wet sound that echoes in the place when she does so is absolutely sickening._

_Scowling, Mary lets the bloodied thing drop to her worn bedside table. It lands on the wood with a dull thunk and she sighs, watching as her lover's muscles relaxed again._

_He remains still and silent as she cleans the wound, doing stitches as best as she can before dressing his shoulder with a bandage._

_He stayed strong, yes, but she notices he's clenching his jaw hard, sweat covering his forehead._

_He's probably in a lot of pain._

_After giving him some medicine for it, she straddles his lap carefully, making sure to avoid touching his hurt shoulder._

_Kissing his lips briefly, Mary lets her fingers caress his neck in a soothing manner, trailing over that strange birthmark._

_"Is there anything else I can do to make you feel better?"_

_He shakes his head, exhaustion catching up to him as he strokes her hips with his thumbs. His eyes move to the door and Mary shakes her head._

_"If you think I'm gonna let you leave now, you're sorely mistaken. Lay down and get some rest, or I swear I'll shove that bullet right back where it came from."_

_He scoffs and rolls his eyes._

_But exhaustion wins and he ends up obeying._

_Hours later, Mary is still laying there by his side, watching the other criminal while he slept restlessly._

_He's sweating, tossing and turning, sometimes she has to hold him still to make sure he won't roll onto his injured shoulder._

_He's so warm. More than usual._

_With a worried frown, she touches his forehead._

_Just as she suspected. He has a bad fever._

_Sighing, Mary lets her head rest on the pillow, eyes glued to him._ _She actually cares about this idiot and his well being. So there's no way she'll get any sleep tonight._

_Suddenly, he starts to mumble something._

_A name._

_She can't understand at first, but then he starts to speak louder._

_"Ele... Eleanor..."_

_A scowl immediately comes to Mary's face. Who is this person?_

_She never thought she'd see her lover like this. So helpless, desperately calling out for a woman in his sleep, as if she was the balm he needed to get through this pain._

_As if his very soul was telling him he **needed**  her._

_As the minutes go by, his despair only gets worse. And so does the fever._

_Mary starts to wonder if he even knows this woman whose name he's calling out. Maybe it's nothing but a feverish delirium._

_Maybe..._

_All she knows is that she remains by his side, worried as fuck._

_On the other side of the city, inside a fancy, huge mansion on the hills, a certain 17 year old blonde girl wakes up with a start._

_Perhaps it was the thunder that's still echoing outside._

_The storm is relentless against the glass door to her balcony, and she hisses in pain when she moves._ _Her right shoulder hurts as if it has been cut open and she touches it, actually fearing to find blood. But there's nothing but unharmed skin and she frowns in confusion._

_Why the hell is she in pain?_

_The naked girl beside her stirs in her sleep and Eleanor sighs softly while watching her beautiful, exotic face._ _Despite the pain, she can't help but smile at Max's perfect, peaceful features, reaching to brush her hair out of her face tenderly._

_Things have gotten so much better after this girl came into her life._ _She feels just a little bit alive now._

_As if a long lost part of herself has just been returned._

_And yet, Eleanor just can't shake the feeling that there's still **something**  missing._

_Something so very important..._

_Someone?_

_Doing her best to ignore the pain on her shoulder, she lays her head back on her swan feather pillow and closes her eyes._

_Her dreams are plagued by piercing eyes blue as the Caribbean sea, tanned skin and dark, long hair._

* * *

**Somalia**

**Present days**

Eleanor moves to Charles' side in the blink of an eye, sitting on her knees. Her hands fly to his face, and she could swear his skin feels deadly cold already...

" _No_ -" She chokes, two teardrops falling to his face. Faintly, she hears Jack calling the headquarters' trauma center. "No, no, no,  _no!_ "

He's still breathing. There's a hole on his stomach, blood flowing out of the wound.

"Eleanor-" Somehow, Anne's voice sounds rough, gentle and urgent at the same time as she rushes to her side, dropping to the floor on her knees too. "Keep pressure. The wound."

She understands, her hands moving from Charles' face to his abdomen. Her fingers are immediately soaked with his blood, but she doesn't even notice. Her hands are trembling violently, a string of quiet " _no's_ " leaving her lips nonstop.

"Want me to do it for you?" Anne asks but she snaps immediately, her voice coming out much harsher than she expected.

"I got it!"

The gun drops from his hand as Teach rushes to his nephew's side.

Or tries to, at least.

"Get away from him!"

She had never screamed so loudly in her life. Even Anne flinched, and it instantly made Teach stop in his tracks.

"You did this! Get the  _fuck_  away from him!"

The giant stares at Eleanor's face for a moment, watching the tears rolling down her face, her hands covered in Charles' blood as she looks back at his abdomen. Those blue eyes open weakly, and for a second he looks at Teach's face.

_What have I done..._

The pirate king's emotions are written all over his face and he stands frozen in place, eyes glued to the scene playing right in front of him. The two women are focused on keeping Charles conscious for as long as they possibly can, and Jack drops down to the floor too after ending the call on his phone. Anne's wide eyes meet his briefly before he looks at his best friend's face.

"Hey. Hang on, okay? Help is on its way, we just need you to be strong."

Eleanor can't stop sobbing, still having some trouble believing this is real,  _praying_  it's just one of her nightmares and that she'll soon wake up down in the captain's quarters, her criminal's arms safely around her.

But even as she blinks hard, this hell goes on.

Her attention snaps back to Charles' face when he coughs weakly, and their eyes lock.

She sees it when he tries to go back to his strong, commanding self, even when he's on the verge of death. He tries to lift his head, muttering something under his breath.

" _Fli_..."

No success, but he tries again.

" _F_ -"

"Don't you dare trying to speak!" Giving up, Eleanor lets Anne take over the task of keeping pressure on the wound and moves closer to her lover's head, her bloody hands holding both sides of his face. Her tears fall to his cheekbones and she does her very best to stop sobbing so she can speak.

She almost panics when his eyes start to lose their focus and fall closed, but upon feeling Jack's hand squeezing her shoulder in silent support, reminding her she needs to stay calm for Charles, Eleanor gathers all of her self control and strength.

"My voice. Focus on my voice.  _Please_."

The desperate plea makes him open his eyes fully again, searching around aimlessly. His vision is probably fading.

"Here. I'm here. I'm right here, okay?" She loses it for a brief second, sobbing in despair again before regaining her self control, bringing her face as close to his as she possibly can.

Finally, he looks into her eyes again, letting her know he's fighting.

"Please stay awake. You heard Jack. Help is coming. Please don't leave me."

She doesn't fail to notice he's growing weaker. His breathing is slowing down.

Her hand goes to his chest but not even his heartbeat is able to calm her nerves.

"They're coming. Keep him awake, Eleanor. Just a little bit longer,  _please_."

Jack urges her and she faintly hears the medical staff arriving.

Not sure what to do anymore, she leans down to press a kiss to his cold lips, more tears falling to the skin of his face. Of course he has no strength to respond and when she pulls away, he looks even worse.

"Please. Please don't do this to me.  _I love you_. I love you, please stay with me. I love you  _so much_."

His eyes flutter shut, his head lolling weakly to the side.

Eleanor's scream is heart wrenching, all of the men watching the scene lower their heads to the floor. As if a dam has been broken, she gives in to the despair, trying to shake him awake as the medical staff boards the ship.

" _No_! Charles, no, come back! Come back to me! Please, I can't lose you again,  _COME BACK_!"

Jack grabs a hold of her shoulder, tearing her away from the unmoving body and holding her close so the men could transfer his unconscious friend to the stretcher they brought with them. Eleanor hits his chest with all her strength repeatedly, completely hysterical by now.

"It's okay. They're here to  _help_ , remember?" He speaks close to her ear, trying his best to sound calm. "They will do their very best. But they need to take him away for now. It'll be okay, just please calm down."

She shakes her head violently, eyes glued to the still body on the stretcher, he's losing more blood with each passing moment, the crimson puddle on the deck makes her want to vomit. Her despair only grows when the newly arrived men start to carry him away from the ship, and she fights even harder against Jack's hold.

"I'll stay with him, let go of me!"

"You can't. Stop this at once and we can at least follow them to the trauma center."

She screams again, watching from the ship as the staff carried the stretcher inside the building. It feels as if someone is ripping her chest open and yanking her heart out as she loses sight of the love of her life.

* * *

"I know, baby girl. It was needed, I'm sorry."

Mary can't help but chuckle as her daughter glares at her accusingly, still holding her little arm as if someone had tried to tear it away.

"You promised! You promised ' _no shots_ ', mama!"

"I didn't know you were going to need one, sweetheart. It's not my fault. But you'll feel much better now, and besides, it was just a tiny needle. You've been through much worse. Now come on, who wants to go see a certain long haired big brother?"

Her eyes light up immediately and she grabs her adoptive mother's hand, walking to the white double doors and pulling her along while talking excitedly.

But a sudden commotion outside makes Mary pull Davina out of the way just as the doors burst open, a group of four men carrying a stretcher inside. Her heart almost stops when she sees her former lover, unconscious, blood all over his stomach and smeared on his cheekbones.

"Charlie!"

Davina's cry snaps her out of her surprised state and she reaches down to cover her eyes, moving so her body was shielding her daughter from the scene. "Baby, don't look!"

The little girl tries to fight, wanting to see if her big brother was alive, but then the men carry the stretcher to the long corridor and lock the door behind them.

Davina is crying already, and Mary stands there in stunned silence until three familiar faces appear at the double doors.

Anne is just as stunned as she is, eyes wide, she actually looks afraid, and it's the strangest thing ever. Jack seems to be barely keeping it together, eyes glinting with unshed tears while he keeps a hold of Eleanor's arm.

And this last one is a complete mess.

Her hands are bloody, her hair is wild, her eyes red and puffy. Tears are streaming down her cheeks as she breaks free from Jack and runs to the door on the opposite side of the waiting room.

Seeing it was locked, she starts to bang her fists against it and yell.

"Open the fucking door! He needs me, let me in  _now_!"

No one comes, and she hits the door with all her strength one last time before storming over to the couches and letting out the most spine-chilling scream Mary has ever heard.

* * *

As soon as she yells, Eleanor recognizes the scream that leaves her lips. It's almost an identical copy of the one from the cell, three hundred years ago, after she punched him...

But this one is even more desperate, filled with even more pain.

And she doesn't give a damn if she's making a scene, if she's showing weakness or losing control of herself. She doesn't even care that Davina has started to cry even harder, probably scared by her behavior.

All she wants is to know whether he's alive or dead.

"What happened?" She hears Mary ask in a strained voice, and her bloodied hands move to her hair.

Her heart is beating wildly and she can't stop sobbing, looking around the room for anything she could use to break that damn door open.

"Teach tried to shoot Eleanor." Jack begins, and she starts to cry violently again. "Charles saw it and took the bullet for her."

At this, Davina takes a sharp breath, burying her face against her adoptive mother's stomach and wrapping her arms around her waist.

"Mama, he died!"

Not sure what to do, Mary holds her close, running her fingers through her hair and giving Jack a desperate, questioning look.

He shakes his head, lowering his eyes to the white floor in sorrow.

"We really don't know. Eleanor kept him awake until they got to the ship, but then he lost consciousness. We didn't get the chance to ask if he was still breathing, if his heart was still beating... We simply don't know."

A lone tear runs down Mary's left cheek but she's quick to get rid of it, knowing she needs to be strong for Davina.

Eleanor goes back to punching the door, letting out short screams each time her fists connected with it, and Jack rushes to her.

She'll end up breaking her own bones if she keeps this up.

" _Hey_. Hey, calm down." Grabbing her wrists tightly, he forces her to meet his eyes. "You are hysterical and you're scaring Davina. Get a damn grip on yourself."

His tone is harsh and he knows it's cruel to talk to her like this right now. But he also knows that there are times when it takes something more extreme to make this woman listen. They need to consider Davina and put her first. She's just a child, Eleanor can break down once she leaves.

Letting out a choked sob, she finally stops fighting and lets her head drop, her forehead pressed to his chest as she cried quietly. With a heavy sigh, Jack lets go of her wrists and holds her tightly in his arms. "He took the bulletproof vest off,  _why_? If only he kept it on..."

He barely understands her words.

Mary takes a deep breath while watching them before looking over at Anne. "And Teach?"

Fury flashes in the redhead's eyes.

"Still back at the ship, I think. It looked like he went into shock." Clenching her jaw briefly, she shakes her head. "But it doesn't matter.  _Screw_  Teach."

* * *

It's been almost three hours.

Mary left to try and make Davina get some sleep, after making them promise they would call as soon as they had any news.

There's no one in sight, the door remained closed, and each minute is like medieval torture for the three people at the waiting room.

Eleanor has finally stopped screaming but she's still crying like a baby, sobbing nonstop and soaking Jack's lap with her tears. Anne is leaning against the nearest wall, arms crossed, a sorrowful expression refusing to leave her face.

Jack meets her eyes from times to times before focusing back on the blonde using his lap as a pillow. He's been running his fingers through her hair the entire time, doing his best to take care of the mess of knots and Charles' dried blood. He was hoping she would cry herself to sleep soon, but the stubborn woman simply refuses to give in.

He has no idea how she even has any tears left by now.

"Darling." Anne looks at them again and he sighs. "Get some water for her, please?"

She hesitates for only a second before her eyes soften. Nodding her head, she walks away to do as he requested.

"Bad news travel fast, you know?" Jack begins, rubbing soothing circles on her back as Eleanor sits up to accept the glass of water Anne brings for her. "All this wait is probably a good sign. Think about it. It means he's still alive. Had he perished, surely someone would have come deliver the news by now."

The blonde lets out a shuddering breath, forcing herself to swallow the clear, cool liquid. Her tears fall into the glass, and it breaks Jack's heart. Once finished, she buries her face in her hands, crying harder.

From times to times she has those breakdowns, giving in to her despair and crying her eyes out.

Her sobs echo through the room and their heads snap in the direction of the door when it opens.

It's one of the nurses, and she has a grim look on her face.

"Is he dead?"

She sighs at Eleanor's question, walking over to their couch. "I can't really say. All I can tell you is that I heard two of the doctors talking, and they said it... wasn't looking too good. I think I heard them saying the bullet hit a vital organ. But I'm not sure."

Eleanor  _breaks,_  crying as she never did before. The violent sobs wrack her body and she curls herself into a ball on the couch, her pride long forgotten by now.

Eyes filling with sympathy, the nurse shows a syringe to Jack. "I came to offer this... If she wants it. A sedative to make her sleep so she can-"

" _No_."

Sighing, Jack reaches to wipe some of her tears away, even knowing it's useless since they never stop flowing. "Maybe it could do you some good... You need to rest. I promise to wake you up if-"

"I said  _no_!"

Sighing heavily, the nurse points at the counters a few feet away from them. "I'll be right there if she changes her mind."

Jack nods, focusing his attention back on the blonde when she whines as if in pain, moving to rest her head on his lap again and choking briefly while gripping her forehead.

"Jack, everything  _hurts_..."

Her pained words go straight to his heart and he brings his hand to her tense shoulder, massaging it expertly. "You have been crying violently and sobbing for hours. That's not a surprise." Raising his free hand to get the nurse's attention, he tries to keep his voice as quiet as possible. "Can we have some medicine for her headache, please?"

She nods, leaving to go retrieve the pill and returning a few minutes later.

Jack watches as Eleanor swallows it, making sure she wouldn't choke again.

" _Max_." She speaks quietly and he frowns. She's quick to elaborate. "I need to talk to her. She studied a lot about this subject- Gunshot wounds. I need to call her."

She fusses, looking around for her phone before letting out a frustrated whine, remembering she left it down at the captain's quarters back at the Ranger.

After stalling for a moment, Anne sighs heavily and pulls out her own phone. She calls Max's number herself and hands the device to Eleanor, who accepts it carefully.

"Straight to voicemail." The words leave her mouth a few seconds later and she gives the phone back to its owner.

"How's your headache?" Jack asks, massaging her scalp, and she shakes her head.

"Not getting any better."

"Maybe it would help if you stopped crying?"

Eleanor doesn't think she has ever heard him use such a gentle tone before. Her only answer is to cry harder, her nails digging into the skin of her palm as she clenched her fists against the couch.

"What would Charles want you to do?" He asks after another hour goes by. She's still crying with her head on his lap, and he's starting to get worried. Surely crying so violently for 4 hours straight can't be good for her, right?

She somehow musters up the strength to scoff. "He w-would want me t-to sl-sleep."

She's finally stuttering despite her best efforts not to do so, and it makes his chest tighten painfully.

"Exactly, love. So how about you do that? For  _him_. The last thing he needs right now is to worry about you, don't you agree?"

She hesitates for a few moments, thinking about his words.

Her eyes are so red and swollen when she angles her head to look up at him.

"I-if someone comes w-with ne-news..."

"I'll wake you up. You have my word."

She sobs a few times before nodding weakly and looking away from his face.

The nurse comes over with the syringe again, offering her a warm smile. "You're not pregnant, are you?"

Eleanor shakes her head and Jack thinks he hears her whispering a shaky " _wish I was_ ".

He catches the macabre hidden meaning.

_She wishes she was pregnant so she could have a little piece of Charles with her, if he died._

Closing his eyes for a moment, he caresses her fingers tenderly while the nurse injects her with the sedative. As the woman walks away, those blue-green eyes meet his dark brown ones.

"Jack, w-why?"

And for the first time in forever, he doesn't have an answer on the tip of his tongue.

In a couple of minutes she's falling asleep with her head on his lap as he strokes her messy hair soothingly. Even after her breathing turns even and deep, soft sobs are still wracking her body from times to times.

_As if she's still crying even in her sleep._

Anne finally comes over to sit by his side, and he sees her walls coming down now that Eleanor is asleep. Her eyes fill with tears as she stares at his face.

"What's gonna happen to him? If that bullet actually hit a vital organ... what are his chances?"

His sad eyes and heavy silence answer her question and a lone tear runs down her cheek.

Barely containing his own tears, Jack puts his right arm around her.

"Come here." He pulls her closer and she lays her head on his shoulder, crying silently.

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he squeezes her arm reassuringly before resting his chin on the top of her head. His free hand is still caressing Eleanor's hair and in this moment he swears to himself and to the universe that he will keep these two women safe and sound, no matter what happens.

And this promise feels strangely familiar.

The three of them stay like this for what feels like half an hour and then the double doors suddenly burst open.

"I  _demand_  to see my nephew!"

That powerful voice resounds all around them like thunder as the pirate king closes the distance to the other door in a heartbeat, banging his right fist against it violently.

" _Open up_!" He roars, and they watch in alarm.

"Sir, they can't stop..." The nurse says in a meek voice, shrinking on her seat. "...You need to wait. Any interruption may ruin all of your nephew's chances at survival."

He considers those words, not sparing the woman even the briefest glance.

Jack and Anne watch in tense silence as Teach lets his fist drop to his side. And then he looks over at their couch.

A cruel glint comes to his eyes, bloodlust written all over his features as he begins to walk closer to them.

Pulling his gun out.

He's quick to aim the weapon right at Eleanor's head and Jack immediately does his best to shield her body with his. She's still asleep thanks to the sedative, unaware of the danger. His brain is racing as he slips into fight mode. And then Anne surprises all three of them when she hastily gets to her feet and moves to stand in front of her partner and the sleeping blonde. Teach scowls, staring right into her eyes while she bravely acts as a shield, her hands on the daggers strapped to her waist.

Jack can't believe his own eyes.

She's protecting Eleanor. His little brute, protecting Eleanor. And she looks just like her mentor right now.

Pride swells in his chest.

But he can think about all that later. Clearing his throat, he looks at the giant looming in front of Anne's lithe frame.

"He doesn't want to see her dead. Now more than ever." Teach meets his eyes and he shrugs, praying his tactic will work. "It's your choice. Just know that when Charles wakes up... You will be the one to tell him that the love of his life is gone... Killed by your own hand. Do you really want that?"

He looks like he has cried his fair share of tears too, and Jack detects the guilt in his eyes.

Suddenly moved by his anger, he speaks without really thinking.

"How does it feel to know that... You may very well have just killed your own nephew?"

Pain flashes in his eyes and Teach clenches his jaw hard.

Seconds drag by.

He points a finger at Eleanor as she stirs briefly, a soft scowl coming to her face.

"If Charles dies, she dies too."

With those words and that dark promise, he storms out the double doors.

Anne turns around to look at him, eyes filled with urgency.

"He won't hesitate. We need to get her out of here."

Rubbing his forehead tiredly, Jack sighs. "It's impossible. Smuggling her out of this place quietly would be already a tough task, but you know she wouldn't agree to this. She would put up a fight." He looks down at the sleeping angel, thanking the heavens she didn't wake up. She would have wanted to fight and scream at Teach, and disaster would have surely followed. "He has full control over the harbor. No ship leaves without his permission. For now, we'll just have to pray Charles makes it."

"And what if he doesn't?"

Jack hesitates, but his brain is already working to come up with dozens of different plans. Even though he's itching to ask Anne why is she even worrying so much about Eleanor's safety, he makes the wise decision to hold his tongue.

"We will come up with something. Even if Charles doesn't survive, I  _will_  make sure all three of us leave this place, in one piece, safe and sound."

_No matter what._

Eleanor wakes up with a start about an hour later, and the tears start flowing as soon as her eyes are open.

"Is he dead? Or was it a nightmare?"

Jack scowls, looking over at the other couch where Anne was sleeping before focusing his attention back on the blonde. "A nightmare?"

"The doctor... Came and told us he was... d-dead."

Forcing a half-smile, Jack shakes his head and wipes a tear away from her cheek. "Nightmare, darling. We didn't receive any news yet."

She lets out a shaky breath, nodding at him.

"Do you think you can eat something?"

She grimaces, sobbing briefly. "No. I feel nauseous."

"Probably from all the crying. It's perfectly normal. But you should eat soon. Remember you refused to have both breakfast and lunch, because you were nervous about Charles' absence. You haven't eaten anything all day."

"I don't c-care." She pauses to get her irritation under control, knowing Jack doesn't deserve to be her punch bag after everything he's doing for her during this difficult time.

"How about you try talking to me about happier things? To distract yourself."

She nods, taking a deep breath. "I was planning... t-to eat after the celebration. With h-him, in the captain's quarters."

He hums, rubbing her back reassuringly. "I see. What was the menu?"

"P-probably the bread Mary and I made with... D-Davina."

"Is the little one good in the kitchen?"

She nods, one tear running down her left cheek.

At least now she's not crying an ocean anymore.

"She w-wanted her big brother to eat the b-bread she helped us make. She was very proud of it."

He notices her stuttering is diminishing considerably, but her voice is barely recognizable after all that sobbing and crying.

"She will just have to wait then, won't she? He will be able to eat bread again in no time."

"I g-guess." She takes a look around before remembering they were underground so there were no windows. "How long... How long has it been since they took him?"

Jack checks his watch, doing the math in his head and grimacing briefly. "Almost... six hours. How's the headache? And the nausea?"

Eleanor swallows hard, wiping another tear away. "Bearable."

He forces a smile, brushing her hair behind her ear. "Good... That's good."

"You think he's still alive, Jack?"

Just as he's about to answer, that door  _finally_  opens.

Eleanor is on her feet immediately, rushing to meet the exhausted doctor.

"Is he alive?  _Please_  tell me he's alive."

He sighs heavily. Her heart sinks as Jack comes to stand at her side.

The words that leave the doctor's mouth next make Eleanor feel as if someone just took her entire world and crushed it in their hands.

"His heart stopped."

She sinks to the floor.

Sobs wrack her body again and she can't see anything, can't hear anything, knowing the two men are saying something to her but unable to proccess their words.

There's nothing but pain.  _Extreme, blinding pain_.

" _Eleanor_." Jack's urgent voice cuts through the haze of suffering as he pulls her back to her feet, wiping away her tears.

_Why is he smiling?_

"Didn't you hear what the doctor said?"

She looks over at the older man again, the slightest trace of hope coming to her eyes.

"I said we were able to resurrect him. He's a fighter, that one."

Eleanor can't help but let out a quick, relief-filled laugh. "So he's... he's alive right now?"

"Yes. He is."

Jack smiles wide as she throws her arms around his neck, her tears of happiness soaking his skin.

Meeting the doctor's eyes while holding the blonde tightly, he asks the key question. "Is he going to survive, then?"

His smile vanishes as a somber look comes to the other man's face. Letting go of Eleanor, he prepares himself for the worst.

"That is another story."

"What do you mean?" All the joy has left Eleanor's voice too, her scowl returning.

After hesitating for a moment, the doctor gestures towards the couches. "Let's sit down, shall we? So I can tell you all about Charles'... current situation."

Eleanor refuses to move. "I want to see him.  _Right now_."

Jack watches as the man sighs, shaking his head.

"Miss, look... It's not a pretty sight, and you are already so shaken... I don't think it will be good for you to see him like this."

She's about to protest when Jack speaks up.

"You said Charles is a fighter and it's true, but..." He brings a hand to her shoulder, offering her a smile when she looks at his face. "This one's a fighter too. And extremely stubborn. She's not some fragile damsel in distress, she can handle this. She's strong enough to handle this. Trust me. It will be worse if you don't let her see him. She will give you  _hell_."

Eleanor offers him a quick, barely noticeable smile of gratitude before they both look at the doctor's face, waiting for him to make his decision.

Finally, he lowers his tired eyes and nods.

"Just the two of you, then. The less commotion there is, the higher his chances are."

"Thank you." Jack tells him and gives Eleanor's shoulder a quick squeeze before making his way over to the couch where Anne was sleeping.

"Darling?" He whispers, shaking her gently until she opens her eyes and stares up at him. "We'll go see Charles, okay? Be back soon."

"Is he okay?"

Her voice is rough with sleep, and filled with concern. He hesitates, not sure what to answer.

"He's alive."

She nods, watching as he went back to Eleanor and the other man.

"This way. Once you see him, I will tell you all about his situation."

Eleanor takes a deep breath as the door closes at their backs.

The corridor stretches before them. Most of the lights are off, which makes it look like a horror movie scenery.

That typical hospital smell makes her want to vomit as her anxiety - and fear - grows.

She couldn't be more grateful for Jack as he reaches to take her hand in his, squeezing it gently in silent support when they start to walk.

She can do this.

She's strong enough to handle whatever is waiting for them.


	21. Keep Holding On

**_1.709_ **

**_Nassau, Bahamas_ **

_'What the fuck have I done?'_

_Is the first thought that comes to her mind when her eyes snap open and she looks up to see a strange ceiling made of... **fabric?** , instead of the one she's used to._

_Rain is falling steadily on the beach outside, but somehow not a single drop makes it inside the tent._

_One less thing for her to worry about, at least._

_The warm breath on the back of her neck, the weight of an arm around her waist..._

_What time is it?_

_There's activity in the camps already, she can hear it, and all she can think about is whether or not those filthy rats heard what happened in here last night._

**_Probably yes._ **

_The pain lingers._

_It gets worse when she tries to move, a hiss escaping her lips against her will._

_She mentally curses herself when he stirs behind her._

_"Morning."_

_That voice is unlike anything she's ever heard before. It's normally very unique already, but this..._

_Eleanor can't lie, she has wondered about it before... how his voice sounded right after he woke up._

_But screw his sinful voice, she has no desire to talk to him right now._

_Maybe if she pretends she's still sleeping..._

_Her eyes fall closed and she remains silent. His deep chuckle makes her shiver, and so does the lingering kiss he drops to her exposed shoulder._

_"I know you're awake."_

_With a clenched jaw, she harshly removes his arm from around her waist, moving as further away from him as she possibly could on the makeshift bed. If this could **even**  be called a bed._

_"You regret it already, don't you?"_

_He sounds amused and the teen frowns._

_Does she?_

_"Sorry, but what I took from you last night... I can't give it back."_

_She scoffs, almost making the mistake of turning around to face him but staying put at the last second. "I don't **need**  it back."_

**_Don't want it back._ **

_With a barely noticeable chuckle, he lets his fingertips trail up her arm. It's a feather-like touch, so different than the ones from the previous night, and she shivers again, eyes fluttering shut..._

_"I'm sure your dear father would disagree with that statement."_

_Finally, she opens her eyes again and peeks at him over her shoulder, a scowl firmly in place as he shrugs. The sarcasm in his eyes makes her want to strangle him._

_"How in the world will he find a good suitor for you, now that your virtue is gone?"_

_Her eyes fill with anger. But she can't contain her little smirk._

_"He won't."_

_The corners of his lips twitch up and he moves closer, trapping her between his body and the wall of his tent - if it could **even**  be called a wall._

_"A 'thank you' would be nice."_

_He forces her to roll over and meet his eyes fully. She can't help but obey, face contorting in pain just briefly._

_"In your dreams."_

_The mirth in her eyes makes his smirk widen. This girl is really something else and in this moment, he knows he can't let her go._

_He's addicted now. One dose was all it took._

_"You don't look like the type who wants to be a man's wife."_

_"I don't want to be a man's **anything**."_

_She just grows more and more interesting with each word she says..._

_This unfamiliar feeling starting to stir in the depths of his heart is disturbing to say the least, but Charles simply doesn't care._

_Bringing an arm around her waist again, he pulls her closer. Reveling in the look full of hatred she gives him when her body meets his._

_"You think differently from most of the women out there."_

_"I am my own person."_

**_You really are._ **

_Why didn't he send her on her way already? He already got what he wanted from her, after all._

_Why is he feeling the urge to keep her here, to hold her close... To make sure he didn't **hurt**  her last night?_

_Why does he even **care**?_

_The question tumbles from his lips against his will._

_"Did I hurt you?"_

_Her frown is automatic. She really wasn't expecting that one._

_"I'm fine."_

_He rolls his eyes briefly, and she freezes when he brings his hand down between her thighs._

_But he doesn't try to touch her, his fingers merely brush over the dried blood sticking to her skin._

_"It's normal. Don't worry."_

_Finally snapping out of her trance, she narrows her eyes at him. "I **know**  it is."_

_With a heavy sigh, he moves away and gets to his feet. She can't help but admire his naked body as he moves around the tent, getting some water from the mug on the small table and an old rag from the floor._

_Only realizing his intentions when he comes over to the bed and pulls the thin sheet away, exposing her body, Eleanor gives him a hard look. She remains glaring daggers at him as he cleans the blood away, making sure not to hurt her any further._

**_Why does he even care?_ **

_"I need to go back." She says when he's done, looking around the tent for her discarded clothes as he walks back to the table. "Do you think your men will try anything when I walk out of here?"_

_"No."_

_He returns to her side, an unreadable look in his eyes. And then he surprises her again. "Beacuse I will make sure to let them know you are now under my protection."_

_She blinks, frowning at him and shaking her head in disbelief. "What?"_

_"This way no one will try to harm you, the next times you make your way here to see me."_

_Eleanor has to scoff at his audacity, pushing him away and getting to her feet harshly. Doing her very best to ignore the pain, she finds her clothes and gets dressed, feeling a little better now that her body was hidden from his hungry gaze._

_"What makes you think I will come back?"_

_She doesn't even hear him move, but just as she's about to walk out of the tent he's suddenly behind her, grabbing her wrist._

_Eleanor comes **dangerously**  close to slapping him._

_But then he's reaching to brush her hair behind her ear, this strange look in his eyes... as if he's staring at a treasure._

_Her eyes remain locked with his and she swallows, trying to pretend this weird, unwelcome feeling is not awakening in her heart..._

_And he breaks the spell._

_Smirking sarcastically at her, he tilts her chin up with his index finger and nods once. "You will."_

_The slap to his face follows swiftly, not too hard, but enough to make noise and leave Eleanor very satisfied with herself._

_She only gets to see his smirk widening for a brief moment before she walks out into the rain, leaving his tent behind._

_Scott will have a fit when she comes into the tavern at this hour, soaked to the bone, but that's the last thought in her mind right now._

_As Eleanor leaves the camp, she pauses, turning around to take one last look at that flag. The three symbols put a smile on her face for some reason._

_Staring at the knife, the skull and the heart, she shakes her head._

_Three words keep echoing in her mind as she resumes her walk home._

_"Yes. I will."_

* * *

**Somalia**

**Present days**

They reach a door at the end of the corridor.

For a moment she feels as if she's back in Rogers' room, coming to his side to stare out the window at Charles' dead body in that cage.

It makes her let out a shaky breath.

Jack squeezes her hand and the doctor watches them, waiting until she was ready.

"Here we go, darling. You got this."

She forces a weak smile and raises her chin. Jack offers her a half-smile too and nods at the other man.

It feels as if the world has stopped turning when the door opens and they step inside.

A steady bip fills their ears and Eleanor can't help the broken sound that leaves her lips when she sees him.

The man she loves is on the hospital bed, connected to several machines, his eyes closed. He's very still, a bandage around his stomach.

She never thought she'd see him like this.

With a choked sob, she rushes to his side, touching his cheekbones before splaying her hand over his chest.

That reassuring heartbeat makes her feel as if she can finally breathe again.

Bringing his hand up to her lips, she kisses each one of his knuckles, crying silently. At this point she doesn't even know if her tears are of despair, happiness, relief or  _love_.

Probably a big mix of it all.

"I'm here." She whispers, grateful that Jack and the doctor are still standing by the door, giving her a moment. "I'm right here, my heart. And I'm not going anywhere, alright?"

Kissing his fingers again, she allows herself to let out a few more tears before regaining her composure and facing the two men.

She refuses to take a single step away from Charles' bed.

"Talk. What is his situation, what is the extent of the damage? Why is he still unconscious?"

The questions tumble from her lips as she keeps a hold of Charles' cold hand. Jack slowly comes over to the other side of the bed, a soft scowl on his face as he looks down at his best friend and all of the machines.

"He is unconscious because we induced a coma." Meeting Jack's eyes briefly, Eleanor clenches her jaw and squeezes her pirate's hand without even realizing it. "He was very lucky the ship was at the main harbor, so close to the headquarters. Just a few seconds longer, and he  _would_  have died."

Her heart skips a beat.

She was the one who suggested they took the Ranger out of the covered area for the celebration.

He's alive thanks to her.

"The gunshot went all the way through. He was losing too much blood, our immediate concern was that the bullet hit the vena cava. But thankfully, that was not the case." He pauses, walking over and checking the bandages. "What happened here today... I can only describe it as a miracle. The bullet mostly went through muscle. He passed out from the pain, his heart stopped due to shock, not because his organs were failing, as we feared. Which reminds me... Shortly after we resurrected him, he said something before falling unconscious again. It took him all of his strength to do that... So we think it's very important."

"What did he say?" Eleanor asks, brushing some of his hair away from his face.

"First he said  _'call Flint_ ', then at the last second he also managed to utter out what sounded like the word ' _protect_ '."

Her eyes fill with love and fresh tears as she stares down at her criminal's face.

He saved her life. And during his last moments of consciousness the only concern in his mind was her well being. He used the last bit of his strength during those agonizing few seconds to try and ensure her safety.

Even when he's on the verge of death, his priority is to keep her safe.

A tear falls from her cheek to his chest and she splays her free hand over it again, letting her thumb caress his firm skin.

"That can be arranged." Jack says, mostly to himself while looking down at his friend. "And this coma... Is he coming out of it anytime soon?"

"That's what I needed to say. We're not sure. There  _is_  a vital organ the bullet didn't miss completely, it  _did_  hit his stomach, even if briefly, not enough to cause much trauma. But it's still worrisome, and now... Our fear is an infection. If it happens, I'm afraid his body won't be able to fight back."

Eleanor sobs briefly, meeting the doctor's eyes. "And what are the chances of an infection?"

"High, unfortunately. We are doing our best to prevent it, and we will also do our best to treat it in case it happens, but even so..." Her heart sinks when he trails off. "It's his own battle now. I wish I could tell you he'll survive for sure, but... I don't like giving false hope. Stay positive though. Even if it's hard. I'll give you two some alone time with him now."

As soon as he walks out of the room and closes the door, her tears flow freely again.

"Hey..." Jack's tone is gentle as he walks around the bed and gathers her in his arms. She doesn't let go of Charles' hand, but buries her face in her friend's shoulder. "...Don't be like that. The worst is over now. He's alive. You can't assume things will go south from now on, you must cling to hope or you will end up going insane like your ex-husband. Is that what you want?"

She shakes her head against his shoulder, sniffling quietly. He caresses her hair, eyes glued to the unmoving form on the hospital bed. "You need to be strong now, darling. For Charles. You  _owe_  it to him. He did all this to save your life, so now you really need to take care of yourself."

He's right, and she knows it.

But it's just so damn  _hard_.

"It's all my fault, Jack. I should have stayed in Nassau, this would have never happened... This must be part of my punishment. To lose him again..."

"Stop saying that nonsense. If this is punishment for someone, it's for Teach, not you." He pulls away, meeting her tearful, swollen eyes. "A way to make him see this hatred against you won't lead him anywhere, and that you changed. Now, his hate, anger and  _selfishness_  may cost him his nephew's life."

Averting her eyes, she looks down at Charles again. "What if he survives... And spends months in a coma, like Woodes did?"

Jack actually chuckles at that. "He's much stronger than that piece of crap. It won't happen."

After looking around the room briefly, he brings Eleanor a chair so she can sit beside the bed. That unmoving hand remains in her grasp the entire time and she brings it to rest on her lap when she sits down.

"Any orders, captain?"

A confused frown comes to her face and she meets Jack's eyes in question.

With a shrug, he smiles.

"Charles always says you're second in command if something ever happens to him, doesn't he?"

The corners of her lips twitch up and she thinks for a moment. A determined glint comes to her eyes.

"Keep Teach away. I don't want him anywhere near Charles. I don't want to hear his voice... I don't want to see his face. Or so God help me, I'll  _kill_  him with my own bare hands. Or at least die trying."

Jack knows she's serious and nods his head at her as she trails her fingers over Charles' forehead lovingly.

"Of course."

"He really is my guardian angel, isn't he?"

Her tone is quiet and Jack has to smile softly. "I still remember it clearly, the day he first let everyone know you were under his protection. I thought he was going mental... Praying it was just a phase. But three hundred years later, things have not changed."

"It was right after our first time." She speaks without even thinking, smiling at the memory.

Minutes go by as they stare at the criminal in silence, and a hostile look immediately comes to Eleanor's face when the doctor comes back. She knows what he's going to say and prepares herself to put up a fight, gripping her lover's hand tighter.

"I'm sorry, you two need to leave now."

"I will stay with him."

Her tone is absolute and the doctor shakes his head, giving her a look.

"Miss..."

"Uh, buddy, trust me. You don't want to antagonize this woman. She's a nightmare dressed like a daydream. Listen to me." She looks at Jack's face as he speaks those words, feeling gratitude spark in her chest again. "And anyway... I know Charles. Believe me, his chances of getting better are higher if she's by his side. If you make her leave him... He could get worse."

"You really believe-"

"You don't know them. When it comes to these two... I don't doubt anything. Their bond is the kind that goes beyond death." He pauses to wink down at Eleanor and the ghost of a smile comes to her lips. "Charles is like a brother to me, and since he can't speak for himself right now, I have to ensure things will be the way he wants in this difficult moment. And trust me. This is exactly what he wants. Let Eleanor stay with him. She and I won't have it any other way."

After a moment's hesitation, the doctor sighs tiredly and nods at them. "Only her. There is a limit for visitations too. Only one person at a time."

"Of course." Jack smiles at him before looking down at the blonde again and bringing a hand to her shoulder. "Anne and I will be right at the waiting room at all times, alright? Call me if you need anything. I will also move some of your stuff here for you."

She forces a smile to let her gratitude show, watching as he walked out of the room.

Now alone with Charles, sobs wrack her body again and she presses a kiss to his motionless lips.

" _Please_  come back to me."

* * *

The heavy, metal door is suddenly burst open from the outside.

Sunlight invades the previously dark room where the pirates left them yesterday, and he brings his hand up to protect his sensitive eyes.

As the rest of the men cheer their rescue, he looks up when a shadow looms over him.

The Asian's face is serious, an unreadable look in her eyes.

"Up." Is her simple command and he promptly obeys, getting to his feet and following her out the door.

Her stride is as regal as always and he keeps up with her as they make their way to the containers.

"Speak."

"Pirates, Madame. That filthy race-"

" _Watch_  your words."

He's taken aback by this.

She sounded so hostile. Her tone is usually neutral, calm and collected.

But now she sounded as if he had just said a direct offence to her face. He also detected a weird tiredness in her voice. As if she has mixed feelings about this current situation.

_Strange._

They reach the containers, and he grimaces while looking at the scene before them.

Most of the cargo was gone.

"I saw their leader. At least I assumed it was the leader. He had a redhead with him, probably his lover; he was very focused on protecting her. I almost got them. But he somehow found his way around the containers and attacked me from behind. Knocked me out. I woke up locked in that room with the rest of the men hours later."

She doesn't answer, eyes moving over the empty containers.

Her silence is disturbing.

"Madame, the cargo. They-"

" _Vasyl_." She cuts him off, shaking her head. "You know there is only one part of the cargo that concerns us. Where is it? Did they take it too?"

He notices she has a nervous hint to her voice. And with good reason. If they lost  _that_ , the farmers would kick them out of the island.

If they were lucky.

"It should be over there. Come with me."

She follows him in silence, her heart beating wildly in her chest.

Relief takes her over when they reach their destination and she sees the container was still closed, untouched

"Open it. I need to make sure it's all here."

He obeys, and she peeks inside through the small crack, quickly checking the contents and exhaling deeply.

They didn't take any of the cannabis packages.

"Quick." She tells him, checking to see if no one was around. "I have the boat ready, let's transfer the packages to it and get them to the mainland. We will need to do this ourselves this time."

He nods, grabbing one of the bags she brought with her and getting to work.

"Of course, Madame."

* * *

"Hello, my darling."

The words bring a weak smile to her tired face and she looks over at the door in time to see Jack stepping inside, holding a tray in his hands.

It's been almost 24 hours since she "moved" to this hospital room, and things have not changed with Charles.

She stayed by his side the whole time, refusing to eat or even sleep.

Jack approaches her, setting the tray on the bed right next to Charles.

She sees there's a plate with some soup and a piece of bread, and even though she hasn't eaten anything in the last 48 hours, not even the smell of the food makes her stomach growl.

But Jack insists, pushing the tray closer to her chair.

"It's from Mary. Please, eat. You have to."

She rolls her eyes, ignoring the soup.

"Eleanor,  _please_. I once promised Charles I would take care of you in case something happened to him. Please help me keep that promise."

Her eyes soften.

Jack has been doing so much for her. He's being her rock during this horrible nightmare.

This is the least she can do to show her gratitude.

With a heavy sigh, she reaches for the plate and forces herself to swallow spoon after spoon of the soup. She notices it's warm, but barely pays attention to the taste, focusing on getting this over with as soon as possible.

Once she's done, she wordlessly sets the plate back on the tray and leans back on her chair, grimacing briefly.

"Good girl. You will feel stronger now." Jack watches her for a few moments, seeing her discomfort clearly. "You have been sitting on that metal chair since yesterday."

It's not a question, and she scoffs.

"So?"

He gestures to the bed. It's big enough to fit two people, and there's more than enough room on Charles' left side.

"Maybe you should lay down and rest? I'm sure Charles would want you as close to him as possible."

"I'm scared to fall asleep and end up touching the wound."

"Then I'll stay here and make sure that doesn't happen."

She meets his eyes, hesitant. "You would do that?"

"He's my brother. He needs you, and you need to be in your best shape. You need some rest, urgently. For someone who's used to repressing feelings, the last 48 hours have probably been a very tough rollercoaster."

She bites her lower lip as a tear rolls down her cheek. "I'm terrified... Of falling asleep and then waking up to find his skin cold and pale... While at the same time, the mere thought of watching him die again... Every minute is a  _torture_."

Her voice breaks. Jack sighs heavily, patting the empty spot next to Charles on the mattress.

"Eleanor. The doctors did everything they could. There's nothing else we can do for him now, except stay by his side. This battle is only his. Now go on and lay down with him. I'm sure he's longing to feel you closer."

Finally, she gives in.

Desperately needing the comfort of his body against hers, Eleanor carefully climbs on the bed next to him, her fingers seeking the anchor pendant. She makes sure not to touch the bandages, keeping her arm far away from the injured area.

Even though he doesn't bring his arms around her as usual, she already breathes a sigh of profound relief for being this close to him again.

"You think he can hear us?"

Jack takes her previous spot on the chair, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

"I like to think that yes, he can."

After a few moments of silence, he thinks she fell asleep. But then her voice sounds in the room and he knows she's not talking to him, but to his comatose friend.

"Do you have any idea what I felt, every morning when I could wake up and look at your face? To hear your heartbeat, feel your chest rising and falling with each breath you took? I felt so blessed. So  _blessed_  to have you by my side again, alive... After what I did to you... I did not deserve this forgiveness, and yet, you gave it to me. You gave me my freedom again. My happiness. My true self. You saved me, and I am not talking just about the bullet you took for me. You saved me from Woodes. From my father. But mostly, from myself. You kept me from throwing myself into a life made of lies again. Remember when you asked if I regretted my decision of staying with you? I said I didn't, and that is the truth. Because despite all the storms... All the fights, the sometimes hurtful words we say to each other... Despite the bad blood that will always remain, due to our painful past... I have never been happier. Those past few months have been the best ones I have ever lived. Both in this life and in the previous one. I felt so alive. And I owe it all to  _you_." She lets out a choked sob, pressing a kiss to his birthmark as her tears fall to his skin. "You are my harbor. My home. And this probably makes me weak, but I don't give a fuck... I don't think I can be without you. Not anymore. I don't know how to do that. I forgot how I did it three centuries ago, but I don't  _want_ to remember. All I know is that I can't lose you again. I just got you back. There's still so much I want to do with you. I need to drag you to a pride parade with me. To watch your discomfort as the men from my community admire your muscles. I need to take you to meet my grandparents, to laugh when my grandmother hands you a cup of tea and you have absolutely no idea what to do with it. We need to sail the seven seas together, now that we can finally do it. I will sail with you, from the Hawaii to the South Pole... From Australia to Finland... Anywhere. The world will be  _ours_ , and we will see all of it. Together. I want to sit by your side, embarrassed as hell while Scott shows you all of my baby pictures... To laugh when he and Flint glare daggers at you, whenever you kiss me in front of them. I need to swim with you, with all sorts of sea creatures... Even sharks, if that's what you want. I need to  _live_."

Even Jack swallows hard, tears threatening to run down his face. He had never heard so much emotion in this woman's voice before.

He wasn't sure if she was even capable of talking like this.

"You have no idea, Charles... Every fucking time things got tough, every time my father broke my heart... When I saw you coming towards me with that stupid half smirk of yours, when I ran to your tent and laid by your side at night... Part of me just wanted to... ask you to take me away, away from all that pain, all that bullshit. To take me to the ocean with you, far, far away. I knew you would do it, all I had to do was ask... But I didn't know how to react to all the love I found in your heart. It was all I wanted, deep down, and when I finally found it, I fought... I was an idiot, and I fought so very hard against that idea of leaving with you. And now... Now we finally got the chance to do that. Our ship... Our beautiful ship, she's waiting for us in the harbor, we can go anywhere in the world... We have so much to see together, so much to show Davina... I'm not scared anymore, Charles. Not scared of what I find in your heart. Because now I know that I  _deserve_  all of it. I'm not scared to love. Now I know you, and I'm not afraid... You see the things the rest of the world fails to see. You are the home my heart has been searching for,  _longing_  for, for all those years... So please,  _please_... Just come back to me."

She lets out a shuddering breath. No one knows how hard it was for her to open her heart like that.

Suddenly exhausted, she lets her fingers curl around the string of his necklace.

"Get some sleep. I will watch him... and you."

She doesn't look at Jack, merely nodding at his words.

Moving to press a lingering kiss to Charles' forehead, Eleanor lets one last tear escape.

"I love you...  _I love you_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, dad!Flint coming to the rescue next chapter ;)
> 
> For those worried about Max, apologies for not checking up on her this chapter and the last one. And I'm sorry but it won't happen in the next one either. Maybe in chapter 23. If I show her, I'll have to show Rogers too, and I have no patience for his bullshit at the moment lol. And besides... Some dark events will happen with Max and Idelle in the hands of those psychos, I'm still not sure how I will bring myself to write that, since I love these two so much. But I will, and I'm gathering the courage to do so. But for now, let's just focus on Charles ;) As for Blackbeard, his sudden absence will be addressed later on.
> 
> And no, I'm not shedding any tears while writing about these turbulent times... Just pretend you believe that, okay?


	22. Daddy's Girl

_**Los Angeles** _

_**15 years ago** _

_She should have followed his orders._

_She should have stayed put._

_But it's too late now, and Anne can only watch in horror as the drunk monster walks towards her._

_She recognizes the sick glint in his eyes all too well. Her uncle used to get that same look whenever he was about to..._

_The little girl scowls, pressing her back to the cold brick wall behind her and praying a hole will open in the ground and swallow her._

_Anything would be better than going through **that**  again._

_Jack did warn her, that the streets were a dangerous place, especially at night._

_She didn't listen to him._

_And she didn't listen to Charles either, when he told her not to wander off before he went to sleep, back in the alley that has been serving as their home for the past few days._

_Jack left them alone a couple of hours ago to check the dumpsters in front of the restaurants nearby, to see if he could find anything they could eat. And Charles was too exhausted to keep his eyes open so he warned her to stay on her sleeping mat, right beside his, while he got some rest._

_She got to her feet and walked away as soon as he fell asleep._

_It wasn't her fault._

_The alley was dark, humid, it smelled really bad too. She just wanted to see the city lights..._

_She was just curious._

_But soon enough this strange, smelly man started to follow her and she ended up in this current situation, cornered in yet another alley as her pursuer closed in on her._

_Anne is not some innocent baby. She knows this man wants to hurt her, the very same way her uncle used to do._

_Just as her eyes start to search for something she could use to defend herself, he suddenly surges forward._

_His cold, rough hands on her little arms make her scream and she tries hard to kick him, to get away, but he's much stronger..._

_And just as suddenly as it started, it ends._

_There's a strange noise, and the drunk falls unconscious to the side._

_Confused, Anne sinks to the dirty ground and looks up, her breathing just a little bit ragged._

_The familiar teenage boy stares down at her with a clenched jaw, a brick in one of his hands. His hair reaches to his shoulders, he's been letting it grow._

_"Are you deaf?" He barks out the question and she scowls at him as he throws the brick he used as a weapon aside. "I told you to stay put! And then I wake up and find you gone!"_

_"I was looking for Jack!"_

_He rolls his eyes, grabbing a hold of her arm and leading her towards the entrance to the alley. She notices he peeks his head out first, apparently looking for something. "If the police sees a little girl alone at this time of the night, they will stop. You could have gotten us caught with that little stunt of yours. Not to mention... That **idiot**  back there could have hurt you really bad, is that what you want?"_

_His grip tightens on her arm as he pulls her along and she lowers her eyes to the ground._

_"No..."_

_With a scoff, Charles picks up his pace, eager to be in the safety of their alley again. "I told Jack this was a stupid idea. Breaking out of the orphanage and bringing a **baby**  with us."_

_"I'm not a baby, I'm 10!" She sounds highly outraged and he shakes his head as they finally reach their destination._

_After some initial reluctance, the child lets Charles check her for any injuries, and he's relieved to find none._

_At least not physical ones._

_They sit in silence, waiting for Jack's return, and the teenage boy suddenly hears a quiet sniffling sound coming from the little girl on the mat beside his._

_Looking over at her, he barely has time to see the lone tear on her cheek before she hides her face from his view._

_Lowering his eyes to the ground, he tries to ignore her._

_This is Jack's role, he has no idea how to comfort a child._

_"I want to learn too."_

_Her voice cuts the silence like a knife minutes later. It's harsh now, and even though her eyes are still a little bit red, there's no sign of tears anymore._

_Confused, he frowns at her._

_"Learn what, Red?"_

_"To fight like you. So you and Jack won't have to protect me."_

_Raising an eyebrow, he leans back against the wall. The anchor pendant hanging from the string around his neck glints in the moonlight._

_"I can teach you. If that means you won't be a pain in our asses anymore. But it'll have to be our little secret. Jack wouldn't like that, he says you're too young. Take it from me, though. For kids like us, it's never too early to learn."_

_She nods, just as Jack appears at the entrance to the alley. Quickly coming over to their dark corner, he sets the food he found on his sleeping mat before his eyes automatically go to Anne, so he could check if she was alright._

_She's been crying, it's clear, and he immediately throws his friend a stern glare._

_"What did you do to her, Charles?"_

_Briefly, he meets the redhead's eyes, seeing the plea in them. She doesn't want Jack to know she wandered off. She doesn't want him to be disappointed with her._

_And Charles was going to just sell her out, but those big, sad eyes..._

_"She... had a nightmare. That's all."_

_Gratitude is written all over her face as she lowers her eyes to the ground._

_While Jack is talking nonstop as usual, Charles sees her look up again and give him a conspiring smile._

_And he can't help but respond in the same way._

_For some reason, now he can't bring himself to feel angry that Jack insists on dragging this child everywhere with them._

_The three of them together... It simply feels **right**._

_As if this is exactly the way things are supposed to be._

* * *

**Somalia**

**Present days**

Everything feels numb as Eleanor focuses on the task of cleaning the wound and changing the bandages. She demanded that the nurse taught her how to do it. Because she knows Charles wouldn't like anyone else touching him like this.

She doesn't want him to be uncomfortable. Even if it kills her, every single time she has to see the results of the surgical procedure he went through after being shot.

But this is nothing compared to the sacrifice he made for her four days ago.

Just as she's dressing the wound again, the door opens slowly behind her. Expecting Jack, she doesn't even bother looking over her shoulder.

But there's no sign of the usual chatter that always filled the room whenever he comes in.

Frowning at the silence, she finally looks away from Charles' abdomen to find a reluctant Anne, slowly making her way over to the bed.

It's the first time she comes see him.

Eleanor watches as she comes to a stop, her eyes glued to Charles' face. They're filled with profound sorrow, and other emotions she's not able to decode.

Since the redhead is acting as if she's not here, Eleanor just goes back to her task, finally wrapping the new bandage just as the nurses taught her.

Silence hangs heavy in the air for a while.

"He saved me too, you know?"

Anne's voice sounded distant, her tone filled with barely concealed pain. Eleanor stays silent, sitting on the edge of the bed. Finally the other woman meets her eyes.

"The first time I ran away from the orphanage with him and Jack. He saved me from being abused again in the streets. After that, I wanted to learn how to fight too but Jack disapproved. Said I was too young and violence wouldn't lead me anywhere. So Charles and I met in secret at night. This went on for months, I was almost regretting asking him to teach me. But he was relentless, and didn't stop until he made sure I'd be able to defend myself from anyone and anything. Basically, he taught me everything I know... He's my mentor. Took me a while to prepare myself... To come here and see him like this."

Is she  _explaining_  herself?

The Anne she knows wouldn't even bother with that. This situation is probably taking a huge toll on her too...

And this is probably the most she has spoken to Eleanor, since the first time they met again in this new life.

"Thanks to him, I was able to defend myself and stand up to the other kids, back at that  _hellhole_."

Her chest tightens. Every time she thinks about what these three went through as kids...

But Anne doesn't want anyone's pity, and she knows that. So she tries to keep her tone as nonchalant as she possibly can.

"Must have been hard to grow up in an orphanage."

To her surprise, the redhead doesn't ignore her.

"It was no walk in the park."

They fall silent, both staring at the closed eyelids of the comatose patient.

Eleanor brings her hand to his forehead, her thumb caressing his skin tenderly.

"You think he'll be okay?"

Her voice is strained. Anne frowns, not taking her eyes off of her mentor. "Yeah. The worst is over now. I know this stubborn asshole. We won't get rid of him so easily."

With a broken sigh, the blonde moves closer to him, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead, fingers stroking his cheek.

Anne feels as if she's watching a lion befriending a zebra in the savannah.

"You really are on his side for good this time, aren't you, cunt?"

Eleanor nods, a tear escaping against her will. "I will never leave him again. Never hurt him again... I love him so much."

Now Anne feels as if the lion just had a cub with the zebra.

After those unexpected words, it takes her a few seconds to find her voice again. And when she does, she speaks without really thinking, sitting on the other side of the bed.

"Feels fucking weird to say this, but... I admired you back at the Ranger. A lot. Yelling at Teach like that, not showing even the slightest fear. I always knew you were a tough one, but  _that_  was really something else."

A smile tugs at Eleanor's lips, and soon that thirst for revenge fills her heart again, a dark look coming to her face.

"Anne, promise me something." The redhead stays silent, waiting for her to say more. "If he... dies... I will want Teach to pay for it. Can you help me with that? Can you help me get revenge for Charles' death, if it happens?"

Anne scowls at that, looking from her mentor's face to hers. "You'll want to make a move against Blackbeard, even with the empire of tough men he has built over the last decade? All those hardened pirates, completely loyal to him. And you're asking me to help you? Two women against dozens and dozens of strong men..." She trails off, shaking her head, and Eleanor lowers her eyes.

_Looks like she'll have to do this on her own..._

"Of course I'll help you, cunt."

Looking up at the other woman's face again, she can't help but smile in triumph.

"Just don't mention anything to Jack. He'd try to stop us." Anne warns her, and only then she notices there's no acidity at all in the redhead's voice. Not even when she calls her by those "lovely" names.

That's new.

Having had enough of eye contact for now, Anne looks down at Charles' face again. A sigh escapes her and hesitantly, she brings a hand to his shoulder, squeezing gently.

"You better wake up soon. Don't leave me alone to suffer with these two stupid bookworms. Who's gonna go out with me in the middle of the night to get drunk?"

Another two tears escape, and Eleanor grabs a hold of his right hand, bringing it up to her lips and closing her eyes while dropping a kiss to his knuckles.

Every time she holds his hand, there's that stupid hope that she will feel him squeezing her fingers, even if briefly...

Shaking her head slightly and regaining her composure, she raises her chin again while Anne speaks.

"Flint must be close already."

Eleanor meets her eyes, silently questioning her, and she shrugs. "Jack contacted him last night. But relax. We're not gonna try and force you to leave with him. Charles needs you now."

Letting out the breath she didn't even realize she had been holding, Eleanor nods as the other woman continues. "But Jack thought it would be good to have him here, to support you. And to offer more protection. Teach said he won't try to kill you again unless Charles dies but... We wanted to have Flint here anyway..."

_...because that could happen at any time._

She doesn't say the words out loud but they hang in the air between them anyway and Eleanor angrily wipes a tear away.

"Of course."

For some miracle, she's not angry that they kept this from her. All her energy is focused on caring for Charles right now, so maybe it's only natural that she has no strength to argue or even feel angry at them.

And truth be told... She really wants to see Flint.

For once in her life, she is fully open to receiving comfort and emotional support from her loved ones.

_Speaking of her loved ones..._

A frown comes to her face and she clears her throat.

"Just out of... curiosity, have you spoken to Max recently? I tried to contact her three times, yesterday, I called, sent messages... I just needed to speak to her a little. But she never called me back, she didn't even reply to my messages. She always does, every time I need her... And I really need her right now. I'm starting to get worried."

Anne scowls. She can see the worry in her cold eyes too.

"You sure she's not just tired of you and your bitchy attitude?"

Eleanor sighs heavily, but before she can reply, the redhead decides to stop giving her a hard time.

"I know what you mean. She's not answering my calls either."

A strange, disturbing feeling starts to come creeping in. Eleanor doesn't like it one bit. "Do you think something happened to her?"

"I can't say for sure, but... This isn't like her. I think we should-"

Anne's phone rings, interrupting her words. Quickly removing her hand from Charles' shoulder, she searches the pocket of her ripped jeans for it.

"It's Jack... What?"

For some reason, Eleanor's curiosity is piqued and she leans closer to Anne, careful not to put her weight on her lover's body. But she's already close enough to hear Jack's faint voice on the other side of the line.

And his tone...

A shudder goes down her spine.

_"Come back to the waiting room, please. We need to talk, urgently."_

Anne doesn't even answer, ending the call and getting to her feet before rushing to the door.

"Anne, what's going on?"

She turns the doorknob, pausing to look at Eleanor over her shoulder.

"I don't know, snake... Be back soon."

Just like that, she's left alone with her comatose lover in the hospital room again.

And that disturbing feeling only grows stronger with each passing second.

* * *

"I need you to promise me that you will keep calm. Promise me."

Anne's scowl is automatic when she opens the door to the reception room and those words leave her partner's lips.

"What the hell happened? Is it Teach?"

"No. Still no signs of him. Actually, it's... about Max."

Her blood runs cold.

"What happened to her?"

"We are not certain yet."

" _We_?"

She's ready to snap. And Jack knows it, so he doesn't try to touch her or come any closer. "Featherstone just called. He went to the address we gave him, but... instead of finding the girls..."

"Spit. It.  _Out_."

He stares at her face for a moment. His eyes are somber when he speaks.

"The house was a complete chaos. Signs of a fight. Idelle was nowhere to be found. And neither was Max. Both of them were kidnapped, and you and I know  _exactly_  who is behind this whole story."

Her eyes fill with that animalistic glow.

Jaw clenched hard, she crosses her arms. "I'll go over there. I don't care  _how_. She needs me, and I'll bring that bastard's head on a pole when I come back."

Neither of them notices the door of the corridor opening, or the tense blonde who walks through it.

"Please, you need to keep calm. I won't try to stop you from joining Featherstone back in LA, but first we really need to talk about this. Max's life is in our hands, you know that sick idiot wouldn't hesitate to hurt both her and Idelle-"

" _What_..."

Jack falls silent and they both look over at the door.

If Eleanor already looked like a pile of nerves before, now she seems ready to break down and cry for the rest of her life. Cursing under his breath, Jack closes the distance to her.

"It's really nothing to worry-"

" _What happened_ to Max?!"

She practically screams the question and he shares a look with Anne, letting out a heavy sigh. "Your ex-husband took her. Both her and Idelle are missing from their house, there were signs of a fight. We don't know where they are."

The choked sob that leaves her lips makes his eyes fall closed for a moment.

"This can't... can't be happening... I'm already this close to... to losing  _him_ -" She gestures back at the corridor. Her hands are trembling wildy. "...And that... that fucking sick, insane  _bastard_  chooses this time to take  _her_  from me too?"

"No one's gonna hurt her, I'll head to LA and join our ally, we'll come up with something together." Anne tells her but she barely listens, eyes squeezing shut as she tries hard not to let anymore tears out. A frown comes to Jack's face.

"Eleanor... What are you doing here? It's the first time you leave that room in four days."

She lets out a shuddering breath. "His... his heart monitor started going crazy, I called the doctor, and he... he made me leave the room, I don't know what's going on, I don't... I don't know-"

His face fills with concern and he pulls her into his arms as her tears win the battle against what's left of her pride.

God, the universe really is attacking this woman with all the problems, all at the same time...

The three of them stand there, waiting, until one of the nurses walks out of Charles' room with an unsettling look on her face.

"What's going on?" Eleanor asks, pushing Jack away and focusing on the woman as she reaches them.

She wastes no time, shaking her head. "Just what we feared. There's an infection."

"No-" For a moment, Eleanor forgets how to breathe. "His chances now-"

"We'll do our very best, Miss. I'm so sorry."

The nurse hurries back to the room.

If it wasn't for Jack's support, she would have sunk to the floor.

"It will be fine. He's strong, everything will be okay, don't be like this."

Eleanor barely registers his words as he helps her to one of the couches. Her tears are flowing freely.

"He will die." It's a broken whisper and Jack shakes his head, but she doesn't stop. "This is it. I'll have t-to lose him, all over again... I can't, not again... Please,  _not again_ -"

She breaks for what's probably the 100th time.

Not sure what else to do, Jack settles for keeping a reassuring hand on her shoulder as she cries.

_Why can't this be just a nightmare?_

Rubbing his forehead, he tries to think straight despite the current crisis and his killer headache. Worrying about his best friend, about Eleanor, offering her the emotional support she needs, keeping his guard up for Teach... And now the whole Max thing...

He really needs reinforcements.

If only he had someone to help him with Eleanor...

As if on cue, the double doors on the other side of the waiting room open suddenly.

And he never thought he'd be so happy to see this person.

Eleanor looks up, a strangled, pained sound escaping her as she gets to her feet and rushes to the newly arrived man.

It's probably the first time she smiles for real since the incident.

His face is serious as Flint receives her in his embrace.

* * *

Acting on instinct, he lets his hand move up to cradle the back of her head. He has no idea how to do this. Maybe he should have brought Scott with him...

" _Dad_ -"

His frown of disbelief doesn't fade away. The word left her lips as nothing but a quiet, quick whisper filled with the most profound pain, and he's sure it escaped against her will.

His chest tightens and he holds her tighter.

She's worse than he imagined. Broken, drowning in her pain and despair. It's only natural that one of her biggest insecurities would choose this fragile time to attack her.

Two lifetimes longing for the love of a father.

Of course this desire would only be instensified during such a difficult time. Of course she would cling desperately to whatever comes closer to a father right now.

And Flint is more than willing to fill that void in her heart.

He knows  _exactly_  what she's going through, after all.

Sighing, he locks his own pain and hurtful memories away. She needs him and his support.

So he holds her safely as she hides her face in the crook of his neck, his sorrowful eyes falling closed. It's really strange to see her in this state, he wasn't prepared for this at all.

"I still can't believe this is happening..."

He lets her go when she pulls away, but keeps a hold of her arms.

"How is he?"

"He just got worse... There's an infection, his chances... are much slimmer now. They're not sure if his body will be able to fight back..."

He scoffs, shaking his head. "Then those fools don't know who he is."

She bites her lower lip, wanting to think like that. But hope is something she simply can't afford.

"They won't let me return to Charles' room, and I just... What if he dies?"

"Then you move on."

His tone is nonchalant, casual, and Eleanor shakes her head violently.

" _No_ -"

"I know how much it hurts. I went through this twice, and I was all alone. You're as strong as I am, and you have me to support you. You'll be okay."

Her despair gets worse, fresh tears coming to her eyes, and Flint mentally kicks himself. He's truly not good at this, not at all.

"But I don't think that will be necessary. Charles is too fucking stubborn for his own good. Even more so, now that he finally has what he always wanted;  _you_. He won't go down so easily." He tries, and she takes a shuddering breath.

"How can you handle this? The mere thought of losing the man I love..."

Letting out a heavy sigh, he grabs a hold of her arm and starts leading her towards the corridor.

"I know... I know. I never said it would be easy. But you are strong enough to do this, and we both know that. So suck it up, stop crying and face this like the tough woman you are. This ridiculous behavior is  _not_  like you at all and it has to stop. Now come on, those idiots won't keep you away from him any longer."

With a scowl, Jack tries to follow them, not liking Flint's harshness towards Eleanor. "If I may intervene-"

"No. You may not." The older man stops, throwing him a glare. "All this coddling is only making her even worse. Enough of it, you're the one who called me, so now let me do things my own way. I know her better than you do. I know what she needs."

He leads Eleanor away, asking which one of the doors was Charles' room, and Jack watches them go with a heavy heart, unsure what to do.

"He's right." Anne's voice snaps him out of it and he turns around, meeting her eyes. "Now forget about your new friend for five minutes, and help me get everything ready to go back to LA. She needs me."

* * *

"I'm here. I'm back. It's okay." Eleanor says in a hushed voice, grabbing Charles' right hand.

To everyone's utter amazement, his heart rate goes back to normal immediately.

"Still reluctant to let her return to this room?" Flint's tone is dripping with sarcasm and the doctor lowers his eyes.

"She can stay."

They exchange a few more words but Eleanor barely pays attention, focusing on stroking Charles' jawline lovingly.

When she realizes it, it's just Flint in the room with her.

Holding back her tears as best as she can, the blonde starts to talk to her lover as if he's awake.

"Hell is breaking out. Max is missing. So is Idelle. That  _heartless imbecile_  took them." Genuinely surprised by the amount of anger and hatred in her voice, she takes a deep breath. "Anne will go to their rescue, but I'm worried. I just can't lose Max. Especially not now. I fear... Woodes will end up trapping Anne too. What comforts me is to remember that you taught her everything she knows. And I trust you. I trust your ability to to keep all three of them safe. And I hope soon this will be over." Letting out a heavy sigh, she looks down at his bandages and lets her hand travel to his chest. Her fingers curl around the string of his necklace, thumb caressing his skin as she shakes her head slightly. "If only there was someone... Someone who could help Anne, make things easier for her so she could get inside the mansion and search..."

A frown comes to her face as she trails off. Then her eyes light up only briefly. She hastily lets go of the necklace and gets to her feet, meeting Flint's eyes.

"I'll be right back. Keep an eye on him for me, please."

* * *

"It's not like Max and Idelle can afford to wait weeks for you to sail the Ranger to LA is it? You can't really ride the motorcycle from Africa to America either. If you really want to save her, you will have to face this stupid fear of flying-"

"S'not a fear." The redhead cuts Jack's words off angrily, glaring daggers at him. "I just don't like planes. They're designed to fall."

He raises an eyebrow, the corners of his lips twitching up. "You're scared, darling. Just accept that."

Anne opens her mouth to protest, but she's interrupted by Eleanor's voice calling their names as she makes her way through the corridor.

"The fuck does she want now?"

Briefly, they both hope that Charles woke up. But one look at the blonde's face when she walks through the door is enough to let them see that all the pain is still in her eyes.

She does have something important to tell them, however, and relief is written all over her face when she sees that Anne has yet to leave.

"I'm glad you're still here." She begins, eyes glued to Anne's face as she walks over to their couch. "I think I know how to make this rescue mission easier."

She doesn't fail to notice the redhead looks skeptical at first, but then Jack reaches to squeeze her hand. "Let her speak. You know she has a bright mind."

Rolling her eyes, but not saying any words of protests, she focuses her attention back on Eleanor.

"I know someone. From Woodes' mansion. He was the one who helped Charles and Flint get me out of that place safely-"

"Because he wanted you in his bed. Charles told us that story"

She shakes her head, not backing down for an instant. "He still helped even after learning that I... was with Charles. Trust me. He probably has no idea Woodes is holding two innocent women as his prisoners. As soon as he does... He  _will_ want to help them."

Anne stays silent, seeming to consider her words, then shares a look with Jack. He shrugs, a half smile coming to his lips. "It's better than nothing. Rogers invests a lot in security, it would be near impossible to get in without some help from inside the mansion."

With a sigh, she meets Eleanor's eyes again. "I just hope you know what you're doing-"

"I want to see Max safe just as much as you do. Trust me. I wouldn't be doing this unless I had total confidence in this man and his will to help."

Her eyes soften. And she finally nods.

A smirk tugs at Eleanor's lips. "Luckily, I got his number. I had a feeling we could need him again someday." She walks to the door of the corridor again, tension evident in every movement she makes. "I will get in touch with him right now. Just contact me as soon as you arrive in LA, and I will give you his number, alright?"

"Eleanor."

She pauses, looking back over her shoulder. Hearing her name on Anne's lips has to be one of the weirdest things in the whole wide world.

"You just... take care of Charles. He needs you, so focus on that. I'll save Max. Don't worry about her, just save your energy to take care of him."

She remains frozen for a moment, eyes locked with Anne's. Then a quick, sincere half-smile graces her features and she nods before walking through the door.

"Now... That wasn't too difficult, was it?" Jack asks with a very satisfied look on his face and the redhead shoves his shoulder half-heartedly. Straightening up, she sighs heavily.

"Can you take me to the nearest airport?"

Those words bring a wide smile to Jack's lips. She has to roll her eyes when he speaks, using an overly dramatic tone.

"Darling... I am  _so proud_  of you."

* * *

 

Leaning against the wall, right beside the door to Charles' room, she takes a deep breath and calls the number. Hoping,  _praying_ this will work.

He needs to answer the call, he needs to...

_"Hello?"_

The relief is so huge her legs almost give out.

"Utley... If you knew how happy I am to hear your voice."

_"Eleanor?"_  His tone is laced with surprise, and she has to chuckle.

"The one and only. And before you ask, yes, I am perfectly safe. Also, please keep in mind that Woodes can never know I contacted you."

There's silence from the other side of the line and her smile falls. She's almost regretting this when he speaks again.

And she hears nothing but honesty in his voice.

_"Of course. So, I assume there is a reason for this sudden call?"_

She pushes off the wall, seriousness returning to her features.

"I really need your help... And there's something you should know about your employer."

* * *

_**Los Angeles** _

_**Four days ago** _

_The young girl stares at her suitcase. It contains only what she needs, even if it was hard to leave so many of her clothes out. But she can't afford to bring her whole wardrobe with her._

_No. She needs to be discreet._

_And quick._

_Her father is starting to scare her. She will be starting her last year of high school soon, he's been urging her to give up on any plans for college and pushing her towards the son of one of his friends. He's older, and an idiot._

_And she has a feeling her father wouldn't react too well if she said no to his plans._

_Not to mention, she ended up eavesdropping on a conversation he had with Richard Guthrie on the phone the other night... And she's still so very disgusted by what she heard._

_Her father is involved in illegal animal trade._

_She always knew there was something strange. All that money... She knew it couldn't come only from her father's job as a district attorney._

_But wildlife trade... That's just heartless. Inhuman, monstrous. What makes him different from the criminals the law condemns so hard? Does he think that wearing expensive suits and driving expensive cars make it okay for him to do that?_

_He's no different from the street criminals he despises so much._

_At that moment, listening to that conversation, hearing as her father spoke about the poor animals as if they were lifeless objects... She realized she never knew him for real. This callous, hypocrite monster who's been manipulating her since she learned how to walk does not deserve to be called "dad"._

_He does not deserve **her**._

_And that's why she's leaving._

_Her future here is uncertain. But she's brave enough to do something extreme about it, instead of choosing to sit here and whine about her misfortune._

_She's also smarter than everyone gives her credit for, and paid someone to help her trace Eleanor's call the last time they spoke. She was surprised to say the least._

**_Why Somalia?_ **

_She knows her role model genuinely cares for her. But she also knows Eleanor is a difficult person, and if she actually told her about her plans of leaving, there would always be the risk that the blonde would refuse to be part of this._

_But if she actually shows up in Somalia, all alone... She knows Eleanor will receive her with open arms._

_This is her only choice. She has no one else._

_Well, technically, she does have cousins in Switzerland, the nephews and nieces of her deceased mother, but they never cared much for her. They haven't seen her since she was a toddler. If she went there, they would just send her right back to her father._

_There is only one person she can run to right now. Only one person who can protect her. And she's currently two oceans away from her._

_But not for long._

_Her mind is made up, but she can't take a plane. She's still underage, her father would find out._

_Luckily for her, she has drawers full of meaningless, expensive jewelry Peter gave her, thinking it was enough to make up for his constant absence._

_It wasn't._

_But it will more than likely be enough to grant her passage on a cargo ship to Africa, as well as the silence of the crew._

_She'll see what she does from there._

_If this doesn't work and she has to swim all the way to Somalia, then so be it. She's not spending a day longer in this place._

_Putting on a determined face and trying to ignore the fear taking her over, Abigail grabs her car keys and her suitcase, struggling a little with the weight._

_It's high time she follows Eleanor's advices and puts an end to her father's control over her life._

_It's high time she leaves this prison behind to go find her own destiny._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh sweet Abbie, what are you getting yourself into? And no, the cargo ship Charles raided with Anne and the men was not the one she boarded. But... Well, just wait ;)


	23. Old Enemies

"How is he?"

Eleanor's tired eyes go to the double doors as she gets herself a glass of water in the waiting room.

It's Mary, she finally came back to the trauma center. And she has Davina with her.

Seeing the little girl, Eleanor is suddenly overwhelmed by guilt.

She forgot about her. She forgot all about Charles' little sister, who is probably going through a lot of pain too.

She's just so  _selfish_.

Quickly drinking the water, she walks over to meet them, shaking her head. "Getting worse. The doctors... they're starting to lose hope."

Mary lowers her head, clearly fighting against tears. Davina sobs quietly, reaching for Eleanor with a trembling lower lip and eyes swollen from crying.

Those eyes blue as the Nassau sea... They offer her some comfort. It's been over a week since the last time she saw Charles' eyes, so seeing his sister's makes her feel better.

Mentally kicking herself for not checking up on Davina sooner, Eleanor bends down and receives the little girl in her arms.

"If something happens to him, I won't leave you, alright? I'll be the best big sister you could ever ask for."

The child nods against her stomach, her little arms tightening around her waist.

Someone else arrives in the waiting room and she looks up from Davina's dark hair to see a reluctant Billy.

He looks tired too. It's probably taking a toll on him, to see his little girl going through this hell.

Wiping away the lone tear that escapes her eye, Eleanor looks at Mary's face.

"I finally convinced Jack to go lay down in a real bed, in one of the rooms deeper underground. My... friend is with Charles now. Keeping an eye on him. I was just about to head to the harbor, to our ship... So I could get Charles' pillow from our cabin. The one provided by the trauma center doesn't look too comfortable." Biting back a sob, she straightens up, letting go of Davina. "You can... go see him if you want, but they only allow two people in the room at a time."

Mary shakes her head, reaching to squeeze her shoulder and offering her a kind look. "I'll leave Davina with Billy and go with you. You shouldn't be alone to deal with the pain of going back to the ship."

After a moment's hesitation, she gives in and nods, giving Davina's hand one last squeeze before leaving the trauma center, Mary by her side.

* * *

It feels strange to be in this place again.

The familiar air... The crowd makes her scowl as she makes her way through the sea of people, eyes searching around for Featherstone.

She's just so glad that whole flying bullshit is over. Just as she suspected, Anne hated the plane.

The LAX is awfully crowded, children crying, adults talking, phones ringing and suitcases being dragged around. Rolling her eyes and glaring daggers at a man who accidentally bumps her shoulder, the redhead finally catches a glimpse of that familiar, round face.

Featherstone meets her halfway, his eyes filled with concern.

"Do you need to retrieve your bag?"

"Didn't bring any bags." She speaks through gritted teeth, storming over to the airport's exit, her ally following close behind.

"Rogers is probably keeping them in his mansion. There is a man who can help me get inside that place, Eleanor will give me his number as soon as I contact her. Let's just hope I can find them quick."

Featherstone leads her to his rented car, his eyes lowered to the floor.

"Do you think... What are the chances Rogers is hurting them?"

"Honestly?" Anne sighs, getting on the passenger seat. "High. Very high. And that's why we need to be quick. We'll wait until nightfall, contact that man, then I go in."

"And if Rogers sees you?"

Anne lights a cigarette as he drives, a dark look coming to her face.

"Then he better be prepared for a damn brutal fight."

* * *

The Revenge is gone.

It's the first thing Eleanor notices when they get to the covered harbor. Keswick had moved the ship back here for them in order to protect her from storms, but that looming, majestic presence of Teach's vessel is missing.

_Good._

That means he's away from here, away from her, away from  _Charles_.

Her eyes go to that huge, crimson stain. The men didn't clean it yet and God, does that make her  _livid_.

"Don't look at it, beautiful." Mary speaks in a gentle tone, trying to pull her along to the hatch door behind the helm but Eleanor fights, stalking over to the rail and getting the attention of one of their men, sitting on a crate at the pier.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Her voice comes out so harsh that the crewmember actually jumps to his feet. "Get a few more men and clean that mess, right away! Or I swear you'll be left behind when we travel back home!"

He stalls for a moment, and she throws him a stern, murderous look. "I'm the one in charge of this crew now. For as long as Vane is unconscious,  _I_  am the captain."

At that, the man promptly nods and hurries away to find some more crewmembers so they could follow her order. Satisfied with herself, Eleanor watches him go for a couple of seconds before walking to the hatch door, her steps firm and sure.

Thankfully, Mary gives her a moment and she loses count of the minutes she spends down in the captain's quarters.

This place so filled with memories...

Countless fights.

Countless nights filled with love and lust.

Countless arguments, laughs shared by the desk or on the bunk, due to the rum in their blood.

Will they ever do those things again?

Letting out a choked sob, she runs her fingers over the leather of his jacket. It's resting on the surface of his desk and she can't help but bring it to her nose, inhaling his rich scent deeply.

A tear rolls down her cheek.

Mary sighs when she emerges up on the deck again, pillow in hands.

"I didn't want to say it in front of Davina..." Eleanor begins, letting the older woman pull her into a hug. "...but I overheard a conversation between two of the doctors yesterday. They said his body is trying to fight, but with each passing day he's growing weaker. They said he's probably not going to make it."

Her voice breaks. Mary holds her tighter.

"Listen to me! He's a fighter, okay? If there's anyone who can survive something like this, it's Charles." She pulls away, reaching to wipe the blonde's tears with her thumb. "While there's even 1% of chance, he  _will_  fight. You know that, we both know that! Because we both know him."

Eleanor takes a shuddering breath and she smiles weakly. "You know, I still remember this one night... Charles got shot in the shoulder and came to me for help, since Jack and Anne weren't in LA. Stubborn bastard, he didn't show any signs of pain as I pulled that bullet out. But he did have a very bad fever. While he slept... He called out your name, and he was so desperate. That amazes me. Maybe he was predicting the future? Predicting that one day, a blonde queen would come crashing into his life and make him, the hardened criminal, fall head over heels in love with her."

Eleanor can't help but chuckle weakly.

Suddenly, she just loses her filter and doesn't give a damn.

"Would you believe me if I said that... I knew him before?"

Mary frowns in confusion. "Before? But Jack said you just met him recently."

"No, I mean... In another life."

She regrets her little moment as soon as Mary's eyes fill with concern.

"I think... Your despair is getting the best of you, Eleanor. You should really rest for a few hours."

Of course skeptical Mary would react like this.

Sighing heavily, Eleanor hugs Charles' pillow to her chest, leaving the ship with the other woman while some crewmembers arrive to wash away the blood on the deck.

* * *

_(Warning: Rape-related content ahead.)_

Her eyes squeeze shut, a whimper escaping her lips.

She can't take it anymore.

But a shock from Rogers' Taser forces her to go back to watching that scene, that awful, horrible scene on his phone.

"It seems even prostitutes are able to feel pain, after all."

She wants to kill him.

He's forcing her to watch as that barbarian rapes her friend for the 5th time this week.

Once he's done, Ned actually looks up at the camera and  _laughs_.

Her fists clench and she lowers her eyes, unable to bear the sight of Idelle on the floor, broken and motionless.

Setting his phone back on the table, her captor chuckles briefly.

"Maybe you're willing to speak now?"

Her silence makes his smirk fall.

Hastily, he unlocks her handcuffs, pulls her to her feet and punches her stomach hard.

Doubling over in pain, Max does her very best to muffle her cry, not wanting to give him this victory.

"Go at it again."

Trying to breathe through the pain, she notices he's talking to someone on his other phone. And he probably has Ned on speaker, since his reply echoes in the basement.

"I'll need a few minutes, friend."

"As soon as you can."

He hangs up, reaching to grab Max by her hair before she can even think about reacting, then proceeding to slam her face against the table.

She's not sure if her nose is broken or not, but she does feel some blood starting to trickle down from it already.

Her right eye is swollen shut, courtesy of Rogers' fist last night. Her ribs hurt since he kicked them repeatedly about an hour ago. Dried blood sticks to the skin near her collarbone; he cut a gash across it two days ago.

It was the first part of this torture.

She just wishes she knew what was going on inside Idelle's head right now. Is she angry? How much more pain can she possibly bear until Max finds a way to get both of them out of this place?

And  _how_  is she going to do that?

That painful truth crashes over her again.

They're not getting out of here without some help.

The thought has crossed her mind...

Eleanor and Anne must have noticed her silence by now, right? She always talked to them on a daily basis, calling Anne and texting Eleanor all the time. They must know something's wrong. And if they do, surely Anne will want to come check up on her, won't she?

It's their only hope.

A horrible scream fills her ears and her good eye widens when that  _monster_ shoves his phone back in front of her face, the screen letting her see as Ned pulled Idelle to him again. She can see the blood trailing down her friend's thighs, and horror is written all over her face.

"Max,  _please_!" She calls out to the camera, and Max swallows hard, shaking violently after yet another shock from the Taser.

She knows Idelle is begging her to come up with a lie, a fake story that sounds believable enough to convince Rogers, because she doesn't want to betray Charles and Eleanor either. But she's about to be raped  _again_ , of course she's unable to think straight.

Her brain races, Idelle's desperate pleas making it harder for her to concentrate.

But then suddenly...

"She's somewhere near Nassau!"

Rogers' Taser stops mere inches away from her arm and he calls Ned again.

"Stop."

Looking down at the screen of the bigger phone, Max lets out a shuddering breath when Ned shoves Idelle away and gets to his feet, clearly disappointed.

Rogers' cold eyes hold a warning as she looks up at his face.

"We don't know where... All we know is that Vane's ship is seen in different places every week... Havana. Haiti. Jamaica, the Cayman Islands... She left on her own free will, but months ago they fought and she became his prisoner. He alerted us not to say a word about this to the authorities, or he would... rape and beat her to death then feed her body to the sharks, so no one would ever find her remains."

She can't believe it, but tears actually come to Rogers' eyes and he turns his back to her, one hand moving up to grip his forehead. His shoulders are tense and he looks ready to snap.

"Please don't make this public... He won't hesitate to follow through with his threats. You have no idea what he's capable of."

He glances at her over his shoulder, then shakes his head.

"I need no help. A man alone is able to move mountains and defeat giants..." She watches, chest heaving, as he makes his way to the door of the cage. "When it comes to protecting the woman he loves."

Only when he walks out, locking the door behind him, she yells. "We had a deal-"

His laugh cuts her off. "You could be lying to me. I'm keeping you and your friend here until Eleanor is safe and sound in my arms again."

* * *

"We're leaving!" He calls out, slapping his palm against the bars of the cell.

Ned looks over at him then gestures towards a broken Idelle, curled up on the cold floor.

"Can't we take this one with us? I liked her."

Rogers seems absolutely disgusted by this.

"I won't have a disgraced prostitute in my yacht. Quick; things are worse than I imagined and I need to find my wife as soon as possible. She's somewhere near the Island."

Ned locks the door of the cell behind him, rolling his eyes while he walked by his new boss' side.

"And how will we reach the Bahamas fast with a yacht? It would take weeks-"

"The Eurydice is not currently here in LA. She's in Miami. We will take aplane, then board her and search the seas near Nassau. My bags are made already, I also have some clothes for my wife, so we can leave right away."

He stops abruptly, eyes clouding over for a moment. Ned stares at him in question.

"But I need to stop by Sarah's and see my son first."

* * *

"And what about seashells? We can go to the beach, I can swim to the coral reefs and get them for you."

Davina shakes her head at Billy's offer, rubbing her red, puffy eyes. His weak smile falls and he sighs. "Then tell me what you want, muffin. It's killing me to see you like this."

"I want Charlie. I want to play with him."

Each word feels like a punch to his heart, it's the first time he sees this little girl, usually so full of life, looking so sad and broken.

"Your brother is still sleeping, remember? So he can heal faster and play with you again."

"So why can't I see him, cousin Billy?"

He hesitates, staring into her big blue eyes.

_Because he's on the verge of death, wounded and connected to a lot of machines._

Clearing his throat, he forces what he hopes is a reassuring smile. "Because he needs to rest. He won't get better unless we leave him in peace-"

"Eleanor?"

The door to the corridor opens, that voice reaching his ears.

_That_ voice.

His jaw clenches automatically for some reason and he looks away from Davina, finding a strangely familiar man coming into the waiting room.

The stranger freezes for a moment, their eyes locked.

_That reddish beard..._

The older man recovers first, taking a look around the place. His eyes are filled with coldness, a dark edge to his voice. "Child, do you know where Eleanor went?"

Davina nods, wiping a tear away. "She went to the ship with mama to get Charlie's pillow."

Billy remains frozen in place while she tugs on the sleeve of his jacket. "Cousin Billy, this is Flint. He shows me pictures of his ship, she's so big and pretty, she's called the Wal- the Walrus."

As she struggles to say the word, Billy's eyes cloud over.

And he feels like there's a huge influx of information arriving, long forgotten information, as if there are thousands of tiny workers in his brain right now, uncovering buried treasures, buried  _memories_.

He remembers one time, a few years ago, when he swam to a waterfall. All that water, relentless against the skin of his back and shoulders.

This feels the exact same way.

Countless moments, countless fights, countless adventures...

Nothing but the sea everywhere he looked.

An island in the Bahamas, an island they called  _home_.

_They._

The fog dissipates.

And Billy feels as if he just woke up from a dream.

It takes him a moment to truly comprehend what's going on.

This is... The 21th century? What the  _fuck_  is he doing in the 21th century?

As crazy as this is, the first thing that comes to his mind is time travel. But he has lived a whole new life... He has  _memories_  of a whole new life, for fuck's sake.

Just what is going on?

Old memories are conflicting with new ones, crashing hard, as if they're going to war with one another inside his brain.

What the  _hell_  is happening?

"What the  _fuck_  just happened? You-" He points a shaky finger at Flint. His voice is harsh, ragged, filled with anger and hatred. "If you think you can show up here and live to tell the tale-"

There's a tug on his shirt.

And only then he snaps back to the present, remembering about Davina's presence.

She looks scared. Tears are threatening to run down her cheeks again, and...

He did this. He scared her.

"Don't be meanie to Flint... He's my friend." Her quiet request pierces his heart and he looks over at his enemy again, completely torn between the past and the present.

How he wants to pick things up where they left them... The urge and the temptation are so strong...

But his decision is made when Davina sniffles quietly, her lower lip trembling as she reaches up for him. Sighing, he does his best to ignore Flint.

"You're getting too big to be carried, princess."

Despite those words, he bends down to pick her up anyway and she wraps her arms around his neck, resting her chin on his shoulder. Her little legs go around his hips and he meets his enemy's eyes again, the dark anger written all over his face contrasting with the tenderness of his movements as his hand cradled the back of Davina's head.

Flint has already schooled his emotions and features into more neutral ones, still standing by the door to the corridor and staring at him with that sickening seriousness of his.

"You are so damn  _lucky_  I have this child to consider now." Billy says through gritted teeth, holding his little cousin tighter and giving Flint one last, warning-filled look before turning around and walking out of the trauma center.

Everything feels  _numb_.

The weight in his arms feels distant, memories are washing over him like the most violent tide, and he has no idea what he's gonna do.

Too lost in his own thoughts, he almost sends Eleanor and Mary to the ground when they cross his path on his way out of the building.

"You look really pale." His cousin comments, a scowl coming to her face as she feels his forehead. "Did something happen?"

"Is it Charles?" Eleanor asks immediately, eyes filling with alarm.

Somehow, he manages a shake of his head.

And then he can't help but scoff, staring into the blonde's eyes. "You and Vane together again, just  _how_  in the world did-"

She frowns, and so does Mary. But unlike the dark haired beauty, Eleanor soon realizes what's going on.

Not sparing them another glance, she rushes to the trauma center.

"Are you okay?"

Billy doesn't answer, merely giving Davina over to Mary.

His whole world spins for a second.

"I just need... some air. Desperately."

With those mumbled words, he leaves them behind.

His walk down the beach takes him away from the headquarters, away from the harbor... Until he's completely alone, not a single person or building in sight.

That war is still raging in his brain, and he can't do anything to stop it.

"What the fuck am I doing with my life?" He asks the ocean, shaking his head. Maybe it would be more appropriate to ask _"What the fuck **is**  this life?"_

Perhaps he's just dreaming.

The last thing he remembers is that island, maybe he'll soon wake up from this strange dream...

And he will be stranded in the middle of nowhere. Not thrown in the midst of this madness, part of a pirate crew under Blackbeard's command.

Blackbeard, of all people.

Yes, he'll wake up soon, no pirates, no Somalia, no...

No Mary. No Davina.

_No family._

Suddenly, Billy doesn't want to wake up anymore.

He needs to get them out of this place.

Crazy dream or not, he needs to take his family far, far away from here. Even if he doesn't have a clue what's going on, how he suddenly found himself in the 21th century. All he knows is that he needs to keep his girls safe.

For now, however, he needs to thread carefully and keep playing his role. Teach vanished without a trace and while he's gone, it's his duty to keep the peace among the men, since the prince of this empire is currently battling for his life in an hospital bed.

They will hunt tomorrow. There's another cargo ship from the U.S. approaching Africa, and he will act as if nothing's changed, as if he didn't remember his real life. Maybe he can steal some valuable items for himself, and get the money he needs to flee this place with Mary and Davina.

Yes. That's exactly what he's going to do.

And once they're safe, once they're oceans away from Somalia, he will figure out exactly what the fuck is going on.

* * *

His jaw clenches hard when that familiar sound fills the nursery.

Aiden was looking up at him curiously just a few seconds ago and he had hoped that finally, the boy would warm up to him.

But as soon as he tried to touch the infant, he started to wail, screaming as if he was looking at a monster's face.

"What the hell is wrong with you, little pest?"

Sarah glares daggers at his back from her spot by the door. "Don't talk to him like that. He's your son."

"He most certainly does not  _act_ as my son." Retreating his hand, Rogers steps away from the crib. The cries die down immediately. "For some reason, this child hates me. That's what we get for letting a woman of a different race take care of him."

"Max saved his life. If it wasn't for her, Aiden would have perished and you know it. Maybe you should do well to show some gratitude for the woman who nursed your son back to health."

He doesn't even reply, leaving the nursery and making his way downstairs in a hurry.

Sarah follows close behind and he tries his best not to snap at her.

"I know you." She says as they make it to the front door. "You're about to do something. To go somewhere. This is why you came here to see Aiden. You're leaving, aren't you?"

To her utter surprise, his eyes soften, a sad, haunted look on his face.

"There is someone out there who's in desperate need for my aid. I need to find her."

"This again?" Sarah voice is suddenly exhausted and she carefully approaches him, reaching to touch his arm. "Woodes, please... You can have the family you always wanted. You, me, Aiden... We can raise him together. Please let that woman go. Forget this madness. Eleanor doesn't deserve you."

He yanks his arm away from her weak hold so violently that she actually takes a few steps back, scared by his behavior.

And also by the look full of hatred he offers her.

"You... vengeful viper, you gave us hell. Just because I chose  _her_ , just because she was better than you, and you know what? I  _never_ regretted leaving you for her. Not for a second."

Sarah can see he's aiming to hurt, but his words make absolutely no sense to her. After all, they were already divorced when he met Eleanor...

And why is he calling her a vengeful viper, what the hell did she ever do to him?

"What in the world are you talking about?"

He seems awfully frustrated, putting his suit jacket on, and she decides to let this drop, shaking her head.

"So you will simply leave to search for a woman who's been missing for over 6 months now, and let your brother play the role of Aiden's father?"

"I have no other choice. But since I do not know how long will it take me to come back, I am leaving you a very generous amount of my fortune." He's at the door already, stopping to meet her eyes again. "It should be more than enough to pay for everything Aiden needs, and for what he doesn't need as well... Just make sure my son will always have the very best-"

"He will have the finest toys and clothes but no father? How is that fair to the baby, Woodes?"

"How is it fair that you ask me to leave my wife suffering in the hands of a filthy barbarian... Only so I can stay here, uselessly trying to bond with an infant who screams every single time he sees my face?"

Sarah lowers her eyes to the floor, shaking her head slightly.

"One day, you are going to regret this decision so very deeply."

He scoffs, his voice filled with contempt when he replies. "Unlikely. Farewell."

When he closes the door, Sarah's tears finally flow freely.

Outside, while getting on the driver's seat of the silver Range Rover, Rogers clenches his jaw.

"Enjoy your time with Aiden while you can. Once I bring Eleanor back home,  _she_  will be his new mother and we will raise him together. Whether you like it or not."

* * *

"He remembered, didn't he?"

The question tumbles from Eleanor's lips as she hastily makes her way inside the room.

Her first instinct is to make sure Charles is still alive, and then she meets Flint's eyes. He seems very conflicted and she rushes to the bed automatically, taking Charles' right hand in hers.

"I went looking for you. Billy was at the waiting room with Davina, and he saw me. Then the little one mentioned my ship's name and his memories were returned just like that."

She frowns, brushing a strand of dark, long hair away from her pirate's face, but still focused on the conversation. "You told me that... The two of you weren't exactly on friendly terms the last time you saw each other?"

Flint lets out a dry chuckle, watching as she sat on the edge of the mattress. Charles' hand rested on her lap as she still kept a hold of it.

_This is still so strange to see._

"I suppose ' _friendly_ ' wouldn't be the best word to describe it, yes."

"Well, did he try anything?"

At that, he smirks only briefly. "He was going to. But the child..."

Eleanor can't help but smile weakly. "Davina has him wrapped around her finger. Billy doesn't want any violence near her, so I think it's safe to say we don't need to worry about him for now. Let's use the child to our advantage." Her smile falters and she looks down at Charles' closed eyelids. "Believe me, that little girl has a certain talent to put strong, grown men on strings and control them so they abide to her every wish."

She doesn't get to see the way his eyes soften as he walks closer to the bed.

"The savage, wild and fearsome Charles Vane... manipulated by a nine year old girl. Never thought I'd live to see that one."

Satisfied to hear Eleanor's soft chuckle, he continues. "But then again, there was always a certain someone who could make him bend with just a little bit of effort, right?"

"Most times." She discreetly wipes a tear away. "But he's too much of a stubborn mule when it comes to certain stuff. Sometimes, not even I can convince him to change his plans."

"Do you see what you're doing right now?"

She frowns in confusion, looking up at his face as he comes to stand just beside the bed. "What?"

"You're speaking in the present. As if you believe he will wake up soon and the two of you will go back to butting heads and arguing over everything. You're finally allowing yourself to  _hope_."

She stops to consider his words for a moment, wanting to deny them but knowing he's right.

He probably planned this all along.

Forcing a half smirk, she shakes her head at him.

"Sneaky bastard."

"It's in my nature."

Silence stretches, both of them watching the comatose pirate. Eleanor brings her free hand to his chest and then speaks without making eye contact with her newest father figure.

"I'm glad you're here."

He nods, even though she can't see the gesture. "I still think Scott would have been better suited to comfort you."

With a barely audible chuckle, she finally meets his eyes again. "You're doing just fine. In your own way."

His silence is the only reply she gets. Allowing herself to smile softly, Eleanor goes back to watching her criminal's face.

Her heart feels strangely light.

* * *

Rogers hadn't realized just how much he  _missed_  this yacht. It's been more than 10 months since the last time he stepped foot in it.

That night, when he swam in the ocean with Eleanor. He remembers slipping something into her drink and to this day, he has no idea what possessed him to do that.

He was such an  _idiot_ , back when his memories were still gone.

Eleanor already remembered everything back then. She was looking for solace in him, thinking she could trust him... And he  _drugged_  her.

Coming to think of it, it was after that particular incident she started to put some distance between them.

God, how he despises himself to remember that.

She was so lost and desperate, and he only made things even worse... Why can't the universe give them a break? If only his memories came back at the same time as hers, they could already be married again by now, enjoying life to the fullest by each other's side. In a much safer environment this time.

He would have received her with open arms that day she burst into his office, crying desperately. He would have taken her away from all the pain, from Richard...

_Richard._

It's his fault too.

Rogers can see the unfortunate scenario so clearly.

After his beautiful jewel realized he didn't remember their past, she sank into despair. And she had no comfort from her own father... She was just so lost and broken that her only instinct was to go seek love from the one person she should have stayed far away from.

It wasn't her fault.

Vane probably planned it all along.

Thirsty for revenge, he let her believe he was welcoming her back in his life. And then he waited for the right time to let his mask fall.

All because she didn't have her father's love again. If only Richard had offered her some support... She would have stayed in the safety of the mansion with him, instead of leaving to go seek deplorable street rats.

He remembers all those nights, in the past... When Eleanor would quietly pour her heart out before him, speaking about all the trauma left by her absent father. In the darkness of their bedchambers she would confide in him, then cry silently in his arms until sleep finally came.

His poor, broken wife.

The amounts of pain she must be going through right now... How many times has she been raped and beaten already?

Jesus, she is going to be so traumatized when he finds her.

But he will gladly pick up every single piece and rebuild her heart. They will finally be happy  _and_  at peace. He will give her the world.

As the Eurydice breaks through the waves, night falling, he stares at the horizon, steering the yacht and not even caring that Ned is currently drinking all of his expensive wine below deck.

All that matters now is  _her_.

_Love of my life..._

"I won't fail you this time. I promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Diving into Rogers' mind made me sick but it had to be done. I wanted to show everything he's thinking, his motives, his emotions. I felt it was important, he's part of the story after all, a villain, but still an important piece of the story. But still... Ugh.
> 
> Okay, next chapter there is something coming... I've been waiting to write this since SAIL, and I know some of you have been waiting for it eagerly too. Two certain characters will finally meet and I am SO excited to start developing their story! :D


	24. Never Let me Go

It's close to midnight.

Billy watches as the men lock the last member of the crew inside a room before making his way over to the containers.

He feels so numb.

And to think he used to love doing this, before he remembered everything.

They're free to roam the ship without masks now and he takes his off, going through the motion of breaking containers open and checking the cargo, telling the man what to take to their own, smaller ship.

Just as they're doing as he requested, leaving him alone for a moment, he moves on to the containers at the bow, barely paying attention to his surroundings.

That's when sudden movement catches his eyes.

_Didn't they lock all of the men away?_

His face becomes somber and he cocks his gun, adrenaline starting to flow through hs veins again.

Oh yes, there's the unmistakable sound of footsteps hurrying away...

He frowns.

They're too light. Clumsy.

It's not a man.

Maybe a child? Or...

A  _girl_.

His blood runs cold and he stops in his tracks, looking over his shoulder as the men brought their stolen cargo to their own ship.

If there is actually a girl in this ship, and if they see her...

Billy doesn't want to think about what they're gonna do to her. Maybe he should just let her hide somewhere and keep his mouth shut until they leave.

But then she could contact someone for help...

_Shit._

His decision is made in less than a second and he takes one last glance at the men before taking off running through the corridors formed by the containers, trying to hear the feather-light footsteps again.

And he does.

He also hears the choked gasp and the soft groan, a small body hitting the floor.

And he's immediately worried, for some reason.

This prompts him to run faster, now he has the upper hand...

A victorious half smirk graces his lips when he turns a corner and finds a teenage girl trying to get up from the floor.

She tripped over a rope.

"Need a hand?"

The words leaves his lips before he can stop himself, and the young girl looks over at him in alarm.

His smirk vanishes immediately.

For a split second he's taken back to a moment, three centuries ago... when he had stared across a table at a pair of gorgeous, chocolate doe-eyes.

The very same eyes who are now glued to his face. And filled with fear rather than partially veiled curiosity and admiration.

_Miss Ashe..._

It doesn't take long before the blood catches his eyes. He sees a hook near where she fell.

She hurt her leg.

Billy takes a step forward, stopping when she tries to move away, still on the floor. She's now staring at his gun and he mentally kicks himself.

_Of course._

"It's okay. See?" He slowly sets the weapon down on the floor before raising back to his normal stature. "I won't hurt you."

She seems doubtful, and he's pretty sure she doesn't remember a thing.

Doesn't remember  _him_.

And really, why should she?

At least the teen has relaxed a little bit after he put the gun away.

"Can I come closer? Your leg is bleeding, don't you want me to check it for you?"

He's relieved when she doesn't try to move away. But her eyes are filled with alarm as he makes his way closer, and he notices the way they drop to his pants briefly.

"I'm not that kind of man, alright? You're safe."

As if to emphasize his words, he slowly sits on the floor by her side, keeping his hand completely still in the air, clearly waiting for her permission.

She seems very surprised by this.

Only after her short nod, he inspects the cut right above her left knee, barely exposed by her shorts.

It's not too deep but probably enough to cause her pain.

"Good news; you'll live. Might limp for a few days though." He winks at her, and the fear in her eyes subsides.

"Can you speak, Ariel?" He asks, in reference to the movie Davina has forced him to watch so many times. The mermaid who gave her voice up just so she could go meet some stupid prince.

He swears he sees the ghost of a smile on her lips for a brief moment.

"You're here to steal."

It's not a question. Billy clears his throat, shrugging slightly. "Steal, not kill."

God, he's feeling so  _stupid_. Even Davina would have laughed at him.

"You are saying I will not be harmed?"

There is hope flickering in her eyes.

And he's immediately conflicted.

All he wants is to let her go hide somewhere until they leave the ship. But what if she calls for help? And fuck, he took his mask off. His face is now burned in her brain.

The scary, unfortunate truth comes crashing over him.

He can't take the risk of letting her go free.

But what in the  _world_  is he going to do with her now?

Abigail -  _that was her first name, right? -_  stares at him in silence, waiting nervously for his answer. Until a chorus of heavy footsteps fills their ears, getting closer and closer.

And the teen may not trust him, but her wide eyes immediately seek his, her mouth parting slightly as some of the men turn the corner and find them.

Their laughter follows swiftly.

"Found the best part of the cargo, did you?"

The look on Billy's face turns hostile in the blink of an eye and he gets to his feet, reaching for his gun again and standing in front of Abigail.

"She is not to be touched."

"What're you doin in a cargo ship, doll?" One of the older men asks, ignoring his words and angling his head to try and take a better look at the girl. Billy moves to shield her better, threatening to raise his weapon when two of the men tried to take a step closer.

It works and they stay put, but he recognizes the rebel glint in their eyes far too well.

He has seen his fair share of mutineers before.

His mind races.

"As I'm sure you all know... Teach's protocol says that if someone ever sees our faces during a hunt, we must take them hostage until further-"

"Never happened before." One of the men says and he throws him a glare.

"There's a first time for everything."

"That protocol is more than a decade old." The oldest pirate among the group calls Billy out on his statement, much to his despair. "Nowadays, Teach says that whoever's unfortunate enough to see us should be... silenced immediately. It's the only exception to his 'no killing' rule... Certainly a shame to get rid of such a pretty, young face though."

He can hear Abigail's ragged breathing behind him, his jaw clenched hard.

The men start to talk all the same time then.

"But rules are rules and the girl saw our faces."

"Tie the little bitch down first so we can at least enjoy our good fortune-"

"Wonder if the rest of her body is this pale too-"

"Bring the girl along, Billy-"

"She has a name!"

His roar takes them all by surprise, the disgusting chatter dying down instantly. Even Abigail stops panting behind him, and after the initial stunned moment, some of the pirates look away while others stare at him in scorn for his outburst.

"I'm the one in charge of this hunt, I decide what happens to this girl, and no one is going to touch her in that way."

"You've grown soft after Read came back and brought that child with her." The oldest pirate says, but Billy pays him no mind.

A younger one shakes his head in disappointment. "Just cut her arms and legs off and throw her overboard then."

Abigail's choked gasp goes straight to his heart.

"We are  _not_  getting rid of her. No harm will come to this girl."

"So you're talking about following the old protocol and bringing her back to the headquarters with us?"

Billy looks over his shoulder, his eyes softening upon meeting Abigail's wide, scared ones.

"I see no other option." He says, mostly to her than to the men, praying she will understand he's just trying to protect her.

And she apparently does, since the fear doesn't seem to grow stronger.

The men disapprove of his decision completely, some of them grumbling as they walked away.

The oldest pirate lingers, pointing a finger at Billy and glaring daggers at both him and the young girl.

"She is  _your_ problem, then."

He keeps his eyes until he walks away too.

Only then he turns around to fully face Abigail again.

His hard expression melts away instantly and he offers her a weak smile. "Stand. I'll take you to our ship."

It takes her a second to react, but in the end she obeys.

Or tries to.

Her face contorts in pain when she tries to get to her feet, and she shakes her head at him.

"I can't. Too much pain."

Her voice still sounds shy and hesitant, and Billy sighs before putting his gun on its holster and crouching down next to her.

"Put your arms around my neck."

Her eyes widen even more and she frowns, but he silences any protests she might have said. "We're in a hurry, Miss. If we're not on the other ship by the time the men are finished here they will leave us behind to swim all the way back to dry land... And I assume that saltwater is the last thing you want on that wound, am I right?"

She stares into his eyes for a couple of seconds longer.

Reluctantly, Abigail does as he instructed and he carefully lifts her in his arms.

She's amazed by how easily he carries her through the corridors of containers, as if he's not holding another human being in his arms.

But she's always been small and skinny, and he's... tall and strong.

The men say a few indiscreet comments as they walk past them, but neither pays any attention.

And when they're finally on the other ship, when Billy carefully places her on a seat inside the bridge before taking a few steps away to check if everything was ready for them to leave, she finally realizes just how much of a mess she just got herself into.

When Abigail left the U.S., she had been hoping for an adventure.

It seems she got it.

Captured by pirates... Way to go.

_And why does it feel so awfully familiar?_

* * *

"Are there any changes?" Eleanor's tired voice asks when she comes back to the hospital room.

She left to tuck Davina into bed and read her to sleep, leaving Flint to keep an eye on Charles. And much to her dismay, he shakes his head from his seat.

"No."

Forcing herself to nod at him, she lets out a heavy sigh and walks over to the bed.

"Can you give me a few moments alone with him?"

Flint's only answer is to get to his feet and walk over to squeeze her shoulder.

"Try not to blame yourself too much, alright?"

She remains silent, and once she's alone with Charles, Eleanor sits on the edge of his bed, splaying her hand against the center of his chest.

"I tried to warn you. I tried so many times." This situation, this speech, feel so very familiar to her and she shakes her head at the irony. "I... I thought it was over. That... I wasn't cursed anymore. But it seems I was wrong. The closer I let people get to me, the more danger they face. And now that I finally let  _you_... Look what happened. It makes me wonder... Are you truly better off with me around? Or should I leave now... To protect you?"

She could swear he moved his head...

His heart rate increases.

A frown comes to her face.

"You can hear me?"

The question comes out as a quiet, broken whisper filled with hope. But when he doesn't show any sort of reaction, she sighs and lets her thumb caress his skin.

"I've been... Thinking about leaving. So you will be-"

Her words are cut off when the bip increases again, his heart beating even faster... A heavier breath leaves his still form.

It's the first time Eleanor sees any changes in his breathing pattern, during the coma.

She's utterly amazed.

Letting out a sharp breath, she brings her free hand to his cheek, her eyes glinting with tears of emotion.

"You can hear me."

It's not a question this time, but a statement filled with love.

Love, joy...  _Hope_.

Wiping away the tears that roll from her eyes, she leans in closer.

"Then hear this... I  _love_  you. I love you with my whole heart, my whole soul. And I'm not going anywhere. I will stay, and I will protect you... The best way I can. I miss you so, so much. Please, just come back to me." She pauses, laying down by his side and resting her arm over his chest, away from his wound. "My feelings for you have never been stronger. I won't leave you. Never again."

Her tears are flowing nonstop, although a soft smile refuses to leave her features as she presses a kiss to his birthmark. Her lips linger on his after that, and it's still so strange not to feel him respond to her kiss. "So don't leave me either. Don't let me go.  _Never_  let me go."

Eleanor lays her head on his chest, her tears soaking his skin. Her fingers seek the necklace and she lets her exhausted eyes fall closed, intending to rest them for a few moments.

But as result of all those sleepless nights, her traitorous body takes advantage of this opportunity and in a matter of seconds, she's sound asleep.

* * *

"I'm sure there's a story here. Can you tell me about it, maybe? How did a teenage girl end up on a cargo ship, so far away from home?"

Abigail looks up at him as he steers the ship, frowning. "How do you know I'm away from home?"

"You speak English. Most of the pirates had to learn. I assume you're from America?"

She swallows hard, not really comfortable with the idea of exposing her life to a pirate she just met.

So instead of answering his question, she decides to ask one of her own.

"What is gonna happen to me?"

He hesitates. Her heart sinks.

"No one will hurt you. That's all I can say for sure. I do need some extra money... And you probably have a family somewhere. I was thinking about a ransom-"

"Please don't make me go back."

The sudden plea makes Billy look at her over his shoulder, and the despair he sees in her eyes is heartbreaking.

"Please... I got this far... Don't send me back now."

"You were running away from something... Weren't you? Or someone."

He focuses back on the ocean and Abigail lets out a shuddering breath.

"My father... He's not the person I always thought he was. He's a monster."

"I see. And I'm pretty certain you're still underage, just how exactly did you plan to survive on another continent, all by yourself? Unless you came here looking for someone?"

Billy waits patiently as she stays silent for a couple of seconds.

_Formulating a lie._

"My... older sister. She's here. In Somalia, I mean."

It takes all of his willpower not to chuckle. This girl wouldn't be able to lie well to save her life.

He knows there's no sister. But the part about this woman she's looking for... This is actually true.

And it may be a wild guess, but...

"Care to describe her for me? Maybe I've seen her around."

"She's blonde. Thin. With blue-green eyes. She's very beautiful, and the strongest woman I've ever met."

Bingo.

Now he can simply throw Miss Ashe into Eleanor's hands and it will be her problem instead of his...

 _Except you have made a promise_ , his brain insists on reminding him, and his jaw clenches.

Eleanor is in no condition to protect anyone but Charles and herself at the moment, if he put the responsibility of keeping Abigail safe on her shoulders too, the men would take advantage of that...

_Flint..._

No. Billy refuses to accept any sort of help from him.

He will have to do this by himself.

As the ship breaks through the waves and he changes their route, finally heading back home, there is only one thought in his mind.

_What the fuck am I getting myself into?_

* * *

Surrounded by the shadows, Anne regards the former lieutenant in silent suspicion as he makes his way over to her.

It's almost 7 p.m., she contacted Utley after Eleanor sent her his number, and he informed her that his employer had left for Miami hours ago.

And even though this makes her a little frustrated, since she was thirsty for some blood, it's at the same time a relief.

Now she can get the girls out of this place safely.

She broke into one of the gardens to wait for Utley, just as he instructed, and even as he stops in front of her, completely alone, her hands don't leave the gun  _and_  the knife hidden beneath her leather jacket.

She doesn't trust this man at all.

His face seems haunted, and he looks really pale.

"Mason and Woodes' father did so much for my family." He begins, eyes lowered to the ground. "That's why I swore my eternal loyalty to them, after the Rogers patriarch died a few years ago. He was a very good man. I can't believe his son turned out to be a..."

_Monster._

Anne relaxes her grip on the weapons only slightly. She shows no signs of wanting to talk to him, eyes trained on his face.

So Utley straightens up and gets down to business.

"I searched the mansion, right after you called. Found one of them, a dark haired woman. She was locked in a cell down at the basement. Woodes never lets anyone go down there, now I know why. It looks like a dungeon." He pauses, shaking his head with a soft scoff of disgust. "The woman... she was barely conscious, but she managed to tell me her friend was imprisoned behind another door nearby. I did find it. But it was locked, of course."

"I know how to pick locks."

_Charles taught me._

Utley seems taken aback by her rough voice, but he recovers quickly.

"I told you to come at this time because there is almost no activity in the corridors that lead to the basement. Most servants are done working for the day. Just follow me and stay very silent."

As soon as he turns his back to her, Anne surges forward. Her knife is at his throat in a heartbeat and all he can do is raise his hands slowly as she restrains him with impressive strength.

"Safety measure. This better not be some sort of trap, or I'll slit that throat of yours before you can even blink."

* * *

_Darkness._

_Darkness everywhere._

_It feels as if months, **years**  have come and gone._

_Then it's like only a few seconds have passed by._

_That strange state an unfortunate individual is thrown into, when his sleep is restless. When everything feels uncomfortable and you are stuck in that thin line between consciousness and sleep._

_He remembers the sound of his sister's cries._

_Eleanor's pained screams and desperate pleas._

_That stretcher._

_A brief moment when there was absolutely nothing, then a shock._

_His eyes snapping open to a chaos of nurses and surgeons, bright lights blinding him, noise all around._

_He needed to speak._

_Call Flint._

_Call Flint to protect her._

_All his strength, gone. Then he was going under again._

_The only thing he could register at first was the pain._

_It was everywhere. And all he wanted was to roll around miserably, but he couldn't move a muscle._

_Torture._

_Darkness._

_A few blank spaces in his memory._

_Her voice._

_I love you._

_Come back to me._

_Blank spaces._

_Darkness._

_Emptiness._

* * *

As soon as they walk through the old, steel door, Anne makes sure there's no ambush party before shoving Utley away harshly.

He doesn't even stumble, keeping his balance perfectly all the time and turning aorund to look at her. She narrows her eyes at him before something else catches her attention. A small cell in the darkest corner. A broken dark haired woman, curled up on the floor, her body shaking.

The hard look vanishes from her eyes as she hurries to the cell.

"Idelle.  _Shit_."

She stops shaking for a moment then raises her head, letting Anne see her tear-stained face.

The look in her eyes is enough. She knows exactly what happened to her.

Tears burn in her own eyes and Anne immediately gets to work, picking the lock expertly and trying to push away her hurtful memories. Once done, she rushes to crouch down by the other woman's side.

"It'll be okay now, I'll get you out of here, alright? We'll take care of you."

Idelle swallows hard, fresh tears rolling as she struggled to sit up and throw her arms around the redhead's neck.

Anne is not sure how to react, merely patting her back as she sobbed a few times. "Do you know what happened to Max?"

"She wasn't raped. Rogers kept beating her... We refused to talk..."

This raises alarm and Anne frowns.

Why exactly did the governor leave? Did Max bend? Did she tell him everything, is he on his way to Somalia right now?

If that's the case, then she really needs to warn Jack and Eleanor...

_First things first._

"You." She gets to her feet, looking over at Utley. "Take care of her, I don't want to make her walk. You're gonna carry her out of the mansion."

He just nods, walking inside the cell as Anne walked over to the other door. This lock takes her much longer, but she succeeds.

Complete darkness greets her.

With the help of her phone's flashlight, she easily finds the cage-like structure.

And for a moment her heart beats faster, because it seems empty...

But the she sees  _her,_  laying on the floor in an isolated corner, a few newspapers acting as a bed. The clench of Anne's jaw is automatic when she gets closer, seeing all those bruises.

A cut across her collarbone. A black eye. Her nose also looks injured, and she just hopes there are no broken bones.

This just got  ** _way_  **more personal.

If Charles wakes up... He's gonna have to let her beat the shit out of Rogers too, when the time comes for them to finally have their revenge.

Her eyes are filled with anger and tears as she works on unlocking the cage too, and damn, Anne almost doesn't want to wake Max up...

Because at least for now, she seems at peace.

The redhead is trying so hard to keep herself from shaking or crying while slowly walking over and sinking to the floor beside this woman she hasn't seen in  _months_.

This is one of the hardest things she ever had to do.

Her hand reaches out automatically, fingers tenderly brushing Max's hair away from her beaten up face.

It's amazing. Not even all those bruises manage to erase her exotic beauty.

Just as Annd lets out a choked sob, the other woman's eyes snap open and she immediately tries to move away, sitting up and pressing her back to the cold, metal bars.

It actually takes her a second to realize what's going on.

But then she's throwing herself into the little brute's arms, her tears triggering Anne's.

The first instinct is to hold her tightly, but she lets go when Max winces in pain.

Their tearful eyes are locked together as they pull away, and Max can't help but let out a brief, sincere laugh, holding her face with both hands.

"I knew it. I knew you would notice something was wrong."

"How long?"

Max swallows hard, lowering her eyes. "Ten days."

"I should have come sooner-"

Her words are cut off with a kiss, delicate fingers caressing her cheek lovingly to help ease her guilt. Those same fingers wipe away the lone tear that escapes her eye when Max pulls away.

"You're here now."

Letting her eyes fall closed, Anne sighs heavily and touches her forehead to hers.

After making sure that there were indeed no broken bones, she helps Max to her feet, encouraging the beaten woman to lean against her for support.

Much to her satisfaction, Idelle is already in Utley's arms when they walk through the door, and he was even kind enough to take off his jacket and put it around her shoulders, since her shirt was torn all over.

Anne is not sure where Max's sudden strength comes from but for a short minute, it's as if she's good as new again, rushing over to assess the damage made on her friend's body.

"Do you need me to drive the three of you somewhere? I swear I will take you anywhere you need to go." Utley offers, but Anne shakes her head.

"Someone's waiting for us outside with a car already."

"Who?" Idelle manages to ask in a quiet, broken tone, and the redhead can't help but smile briefly.

"Someone who really wants to see you."

She frowns, as if trying to decipher Anne's words. But in a couple of seconds her exhaustion wins and she lets her head drop against Utley's shoulder, eyes falling closed.

The walk back to the garden is difficult but thankfully uneventful, and they're soon out of the mansion's grounds.

The streets are desert and once they reach the car, Max's eyes go wide.

" _Featherstone_?"

He barely pays her any attention, getting out of the rented car and rushing over to Utley.

"Give her here."

Max reaches for Anne's hand and they watch as he drops a kiss to Idelle's forehead as soon as she's in his arms, his tears flowing. She recovers her consciousness for only a few seconds, just enough for her to meet his eyes and let out a long, shaky sigh of relief. Her arms go around his neck and then she's out like a light again.

It's pretty clear Featherstone won't be driving, and the three other people watch as he gets on the backseat with some difficulty, but not letting go of Idelle for even a second.

Anne suddenly sighs, shaking her head. "Didn't bring my damn license."

Silence hangs in the air for a moment, until Utley clears his throat and offers her a brief smile.

"Anywhere you need to go. The offer still stands."

And this time, Anne has no other choice but to accept it.

* * *

Their driver is waiting outside.

Idelle, now awake and a little bit recovered already, sits on the armchair as Featherstone cleans the wounds on her arms and cheeks.

Anne does the same to Max a few feet away, a grimace coming to her face as she inspects her black eye.

They came to a motel in the middle of nowhere, wanting to put as much distance as they could between themselves and L.A., and Anne finally feels as if she can breathe.

"What did you tell Rogers?" She asks, and Max winces as she cleans the gash on her collarbones with some rubbing alcohol.

"I fed his madness. He's probably searching the seas near Nassau right now. I said Charles kidnapped Eleanor. Sent him on a wild goose chase."

A proud smirk tugs at Anne's lips.

One less thing for them to worry about.

_For now, at least._

"There is no chance I'm gonna leave you behind, I hope you know that. And whatever legal issues you have to take care of, like the rented house or passports, you better do it soon. The sooner I take you away from this place, the better. Mason is still lurking around."

Max nods, meeting Idelle's eyes. "What do you say? Let's go home, finally?"

They all know she's not talking about Los Angeles.

The dark haired beauty nods, a smile finally playing on her lips.

Lowering her eyes to the floor as she finishes taking care of Max's wounds, Anne sighs heavily.

"That's what I had in mind. Eleanor's mom, Scott and his family will help the three of you get settled on the island, so you can leave as soon as possible."

"You're not coming?"

She shakes her head at Max's question. "I need to go back to Somalia. Need to... see if Charles is doing any better."

"Wait, what happened to Charles?" Idelle asks with a frown and Anne looks over at her.

"Took a bullet... for Eleanor."

For the first time since the rescue, Idele smiles for real.

"Romantic."

Featherstone doesn't share the sentiment, shaking his head.

"Stupidity. This is the same woman who-"

"Things are so very different now." Max interrupts him, voice filled with pride. "Eleanor is reborn. On so many different levels."

He still seems skeptical, but keeps his mouth shut.

"Will he live?"

Anne just shrugs at Idelle's question. "It was looking grim, when I left Somalia. So I can't answer that question."

Max grabs a hold of Anne's hand, getting her attention. "Eleanor must be devastated. I'll go with you, she needs me. I just hope you won't be angry."

To her utter surprise, there is no hostility at all in the redhead's eyes.

* * *

Minutes later, Anne leaves the room to smoke outside, and much to her annoyance the former lieutenant gets out of the car and joins her at the side of the road.

"How are they?"

Rolling her eyes, she lights her cigarette and takes a long drag.

"They'll live. It's the emotional wounds I'm worried about. What your dear employer did to them-"

"He's  _not_  my employer anymore."

Anne merely glances at his face in question and the corners of his lips twitch up briefly as he looks at the horizon.

"I just got off the phone with Mason. This is my last week working for that family."

"You quit your job?"

He nods, letting out a barely noticeable sigh. "Nine years ago, their father saved my sister and my niece's lives. These two, they're my world. My Olivia. My little Melissa. They would have never survived, if it wasn't for him. It was a very risky pregnancy, and we were so poor. Olivia's husband was killed in a car crash right after she found out she was pregnant, and everything seemed lost. But then Woods came along. He heard our story, and he paid for every treatment, the best doctors in California... My girls survived. And I started working at the mansion so I could help my sister with the baby. But the man who saved them is gone now. And unfortunately, the spawn he has left behind..." He trails off, shaking his head, and Anne takes a drag from the cigarette while watching his face closely. "Mason and Woodes are nothing like him. They take after their mother, sadly. That woman is a witch, always was. I've been thinking for a while now... About leaving this place behind. Los Angeles is filled with too many painful memories. I would like a fresh start. Olivia shares the sentiment. We would like to keep raising Melissa, far away from here... Somewhere sunny. Somewhere beautiful. Somewhere we can be happy."

Anne averts her eyes, and it doesn't take too long before a smirk comes creeping into her face.

"If you're open to suggestions, I know a place... In the Bahamas. And I have a feeling that you, your sister and the little one would like it very much."

* * *

_All sense of time and space, gone._

_He's going under. Did he fall from the ship, into the dark ocean below?_

_Is it the 18th or the 21th century?_

_Was he thrown into the raging sea during a storm? Is this the afterlife, he does remember being hanged... Is this what death looks and feels like?_

_No._

_The memories crash over him, a whole new life he nearly forgot._

_Again._

_Every now and again those blackouts happen, and he can feel his brain starting to give in again, everything becoming a blur in his mind..._

_For fuck's sake, **focus.**_

_His sister._

_Eleanor._

_**Eleanor.** _

_Faintly, he remembers the strained sound of her tired voice, reading to him for hours an end._

_Each kiss to his forehead._

_Each plea._

**_I love you._ **

_"...to warn you. I tried so many times."_

_Speak more._

_Her voice is the only thing that keeps the cold, dark waters from swallowing him completely, she needs to speak more..._

_"...over... wasn't cursed anymore... seems I was wrong... closer I let people... more danger they face... finally let you... makes me wonder... truly better off... should I leave now... protect you?"_

**_No._ **

_All his effort goes into shaking his head, but he's not sure if he succeeds. He can never move a muscle after all, trapped, floating around below this endless, strange ocean._

_"...Thinking about leaving... you will-"_

**_Don't._ **

_The words bring a wave of panic. He can barely hear her distant voice, but he **can't**  be without her._

_Without his anchor, he'll be gone._

_For the first time, he gathers the strength to **breathe**. Saltwater fills his nostrils, and the discomfort makes him exhale as best as he can._

_"...can hear me."_

_Of course I hear you._

_"...love you... whole heart... not going anywhere... will protect you... best way I can... miss you... come back to me." Another new thing. He can feel tears burning in his eyes now. "...feelings for you... never been stronger... won't leave... Never again."_

_So damn close to moving again... So he can swim back to the surface. All he needs is to do that, then he'll find her..._

_Her lips touch his. He's so close to responding._

**_Speak more._ **

_"Don't let me go."_

_He can feel her._

_Her warmth. Her soft breathing._

_Her scent, getting more and more noticeable._

_Invading his senses._

_"Never let me go."_

_She needs him._

_Fight harder._

_Won't let her go._

_Never let her go._

_His ability to move comes back so suddenly, but he's instantly fighting to get back to the ocean's surface. Each effort, each tremor that takes him over, makes him feel as if all his energy is being drained from him. His lungs are burning from the lack of oxygen._

_But this is the decisive moment, he just knows._

_Fight or die._

_Die._

**_Fight._ **

_The current is getting stronger, pulling him in deeper, but he refuses to bend. And as Charles starts to feel like the battle is lost, he surfaces._

With a long, harsh intake of oxygen, he's back from the depths.

A beautiful angel is the first thing he sees.

* * *

"The boss would want you to keep her here at the headquarters, down at the cells preferably."

Billy's jaw clenches and he meets the other man's eyes.

"Well,  _the boss_  isn't around, is he? I won't keep her caged like an animal, she's terrified already. She deserves comfort, decent meals and a real bed."

Looking over his shoulder, he makes sure his little outburst didn't wake Abigail up.

She's sleeping in a corner while he takes care of storing and keeping inventory of the stolen cargo with the oldest pirate among Teach's crew, and fuck, he's completely exhausted.

It must be almost seven in the morning by now, but they're practically done here and Billy is daydreaming about his bed.

And the stupid middle-aged man chose this time to try and discuss Abigail's sleeping arrangements with him.

"Teach will gut you alive for this bullshit when he comes back."

_When he comes back, I'll be far away from here._

With one last warning-filled look, Billy meets his eyes. "I don't want to hear another word about the girl. As you said, she is  _my_ problem, and mine alone. I decide where she stays, and it's at the safe house with me, Mary and Davina. Now, if any of you tries to break into that place, where my little girl lives..." He trails off, the threat clear as day as he takes a step back, closer to the sleeping teen. "...make sure you spread the word about this to the rest of the crew. The house is off limits."

Finally averting his eyes and turning around, he heads over to Abigail.

She stirs only briefly as he carefully gathers her in his arms and lifts her from the floor before walking out of the room. Not sparing the other pirate even the shortest of glances.

* * *

There's nothing but silence as he makes his way upstairs, thanking the heavens for the fact his little cousin is still asleep.

The last thing he needs right now is Davina's endless curiosity.

Opening the door to the guest room is a little difficult with the sleeping teenager in his arms, but somehow, he manages. And just as he's placing her on the mattress, those chocolate eyes snap open again.

And they're filled with alarm.

"Don't scream." Is the first thing that comes out of his mouth, and he mentally kicks himself when the fear grows in her features. "There's a child sleeping just down the hall. And trust me, you don't want to wake her up."

His explanation follows swiftly, and it seems to calm her down. Slowly, Billy straightens up and steps away from the bed as she takes a look around.

"What is this place?"

"Were you expecting a dark dungeon filled with skeletons?"

His tome is sarcastic, but his half smirk vanishes when Abigail meets his eyes. "Honestly, yes."

With a sigh, he points to a door near the bed. "Bathroom. Feel free to shower, there are fresh towels in there and I'll bring some of my cousin's clothes for you. She's considerably taller, but it'll have to do for now."

For some reason, he has some trouble looking her in the eyes.

"You should sleep. The floor didn't look too comfortable. I'll go get some rest too, but if you need anything just walk out into the corridor and knock on the door right in front of this room, it's where I sleep."

Billy meets her eyes only briefly, seeing her confused frown before turning around. He only takes one step before her voice stops him. "You won't lock the windows? The door?"

With a heavy sigh, he faces her again. She's sitting on the bed, fingers gripping the sheets awkwardly. "Honestly, Miss... It's in your best interest not to escape. This is the only place where you're safe, if you flee this house... I take no responsibility for what the man might do to you. It's your choice."

She blinks a couple of times. Much to his surprise, the corners of her lips twitch up in a brief smile.

And some of the admiration and curiosity he saw in those very same eyes three centuries ago finally return.

"If I'm staying here, shouldn't we know each other's names?"

The seriousness fades away from his face and he allows himself to smile at her. "Ladies first."

He sees the hope that flickers in her eyes. She's probably starting to realize that no, he won't hurt her at all.

"I'm Abigail."

_I know._

It actually takes much more effort than he thought to keep himself from saying that out loud.

"Billy. Living in this house, there's also my cousin who will, hopefully, let me keep my life and my guts intact once she finds out what I just did, her name is Mary. And a small, sometimes annoying bundle of energy known as-"

"Silly-cousin-Billy!" That little voice fills their ears, the door opening suddenly and causing Abigail to jump slightly. But she relaxes when all she sees is a little girl walking inside the room. "What are you doing in the guest room?"

He stares at the child for a moment, then chuckles and nods at Abigail. "...Davina. Mary's adoptive daughter."

Only then does the little girl notice their new guest. Her nose scrunches up in confusion as she points at the teenager, eyes glued to Billy's face. "Who's that?"

With a heavy sigh, he quickly finds the best words to explain the situation. "I found her at sea, she needed help. So she's staying with us for now, and you can't bother her, alright? She just needs my protection, it's nothing to worry about."

Davina's eyes are still a little swollen from all the tears she cried yesterday, due to her brother's current state, and the sight pierces his heart painfully. He just hopes she will stay distracted today, it just kills him to see her crying.

He also hopes she'll just accept his explanation and leave Abigail alone.

Thankfully, that seems to be the case and she nods, turning around and heading back to the door.

But just before she leaves the room, Davina gives him a mischievous look he knows far too well.

"Mama, cousin Billy has a girlfriend!"

Before he can react, the child is slamming the door behind her and running towards the staircase to tell Mary all about his "girlfriend".

With a brief roll of his eyes, he looks over at Abigail again.

"See what I mean?"

To his relief, she lets out a soft laugh and lowers her eyes to the blankets shyly.

It's one of the most adorable things he's ever seen.

* * *

 _Shit_ , is the first thing Eleanor thinks.

She actually fell asleep and  _just how many hours have passed_?

She's such a careless fool, what if she moved and hurt Charles even further?

Despite the fear, her eyes move to his bandages. No signs of blood, and she's still in the very same position from when she fell asleep, so that's good-

_Actually, there's something different._

But not with her. That familiar, comforting weight...

Charles' arms are around her.

_Maybe Jack moved them while..._

She doesn't get to finish that thought.

Because his fingers squeeze her shoulder gently.

She finally raises her head from his chest to look at his face, hope sparkling in her heart...

A pair of sea-blue eyes greet her, and she can't stop the scream that leaves her lips.

" _Charles_!"


	25. Back to You

Eleanor was starting to think she'd never feel this again.

His lips moving against hers,  _finally_  responding to her kiss once more.

She didn't even give him the chance to speak, and it seems his reflexes are intact, since he wasted no time either.

Even though his movements actually lack that usual strength, she's so damn  _relieved_ , because everything seems to be working just fine. All her fears evaporate in the air. She had been so worried, thinking about the worst scenarios...

Charles waking up and having to relearn how to do everything.

Coming back from the coma completely mental. Mad like her ex-husband.

_A messed up mind..._

Coming back without any memories of _her._

But none of that happened and she actually takes a moment to thank God or  _whatever_  higher power there is for this most wonderful, precious gift.

Tears of happiness are flowing nonstop as she pulls away, moving into a sitting position and hovering just above him, holding his face with both hands. His gaze is just a little bit unfocused, she can see he's feeling so weak, but he's  _smiling_  at her and damn it, it's the most beautiful thing she has ever seen in her two lifetimes.

"You came back to me."

She doesn't give a fuck how cliché it sounds, all she wants is to express all her emotions, for once in her life, to let all of it out. To let him see it.

She wants him to see it.

He swallows hard, eyes glinting for the briefest moment and she's almost  _begging_  him to say something,  _needing_  so desperately to hear that perfect voice again...

"You - alright?" Is the first thing that leaves his lips, she can see his struggle to get the question out, it sounds somewhat choked and so damn raspy.

And hell, he's been in a coma for almost two weeks, but the first thing he asks is if  _she_  is okay.

Fuck, she  _loves_  him.

Fresh tears roll down her cheeks and she nods immediately, leaning in closer with a tight smile and letting her thumbs stroke both his cheeks.

"I am now."

"How much-"

"How much time?" She rushes to finish the sentence for Charles, not wanting him to make too much effort. "Eleven days now."

His eyes travel over her body then, and she quickly realizes what he's doing.

What he's looking for.

"The bullet didn't even touch me. I'm fine. Not a scratch... Thanks to you."

After she says those words, a scowl comes to her face and she slaps his left shoulder. Not as hard as she's used to, but she just needed to do it.

"You fucking  _idiot_! What were you thinking, you could have died! In fact, you came so damn close to dying-"

"Could have been you." His voice, hoarser than usual, makes her fall silent immediately. That hard look refuses to leave her face as she keeps his gaze. "I did promise... To protect you."

Her scowl starts to vanish. Charles shrugs, averting his eyes. "From  _him_. From anyone."

Features softening, she brings a hand to his cheek, caressing his skin lovingly.

The gesture seems to surprise him and he looks at her face again.

"That promise goes way back, doesn't it?"

With some effort, he moves his left hand to hers, bringing it to rest over his heart now. He seems suddenly haunted, and Eleanor frowns at this.

"What?"

"I thought... He'd hurt you. Once I was... gone."

She just loves him more and more with each word he says.

"That's why you told them, and me, to call Flint."

"Did you?"

"Jack did. I was... Too distressed to think about my own safety."

Letting out a sigh, he gestures slightly with his head, silently telling her to come closer.

She obeys without any hesitation.

"I still think it's a dream..." One tear rolls down her face as she lays down again, snuggling against his side and reveling in the feeling of his arms closing around her. "I've had... So many dreams. About you waking up. So many nightmares too... About you dying."

Still somewhat weak, he locks their fingers together on his chest, just above the bandages.

"Not a dream."

Eleanor lets out a shuddering breath, squeezing her eyes shut for a few moments and then opening them again, afraid to see him back in the coma... But he's still staring at her with that wonderfully familiar adoration when she looks at his face.

It's only at this moment that it truly hits her.

He's back.

_Alive._

With a choked sob, she moves to bury her face in the crook of his neck, tears of happiness, relief and love flowing freely. And even though he's taken aback, he's quick to respond, tightening his arms around her as much as he can.

"I must go and get the doctor-" His low growl cuts her off, the message clear.

The last thing he wants is that she leaves his side.

"They need to know you woke up. They said there's... tests they need to run-"

"Tests my ass. I'm  _fine_."

Her scoff is automatic.

He seems to be getting full control over his speech again with each word he says, though his voice is still much rougher than usual.

The familiar urge to fight him and do the rational thing rises in her chest. But truth be told, she has no desire to leave him either, even if it's only for a minute.

It still feels so surreal.

Too good to be true.

"You took a fucking bullet for me."

He shrugs, as if that's the most natural thing in the world. For some reason, it makes her angry.

"I'm serious." Her eyes narrow as she looks at his face. "You could be dead. All because of  _me_."

_Again._

When her voice breaks, his arms tighten briefly around her.

"Dead or not, that was my own choice." Eleanor actually has to struggle to make out his words. He just sounds so gruff, but she still understands. "Has  _nothing_  to do with you."

Not wanting to let any more tears out, she hides her face into his chest. Failing to see his frown.

"Now I'm awake... and you go back to normal?"

"What do you mean?"

His chest rises when he inhales deeply. A grunt of pain follows swiftly and she meets his eyes in concern, but he chooses to ignore it.

"Heard you."

_There._

Those two words bring a wave of panic crashing over her.

When he was in the coma, all she wanted was for him to be able to hear her. And now that he's confirming he could, she's scared.

_She's such an idiot._

"Everything?"

"More or less. You begged me to come back. Now that I did-" He coughs and her eyes fill with alarm as she sits up, but he's quick to shake his head reassuringly. "You're already trying to hide again? Thought we were past that."

Capturing her lower lip between her teeth, she feels tears burning in her eyes when he reaches to brush her hair behind her ear.

"Or do I have to get shot again-"

"Don't even  _joke_  about that."

She had been intending to sound stern. But her voice comes out so broken, so sad and quiet. His eyes remain glued to her face as she takes a few shaky breaths.

"I don't know how to do this." Her quiet confession makes his heart clench. "While you were... gone, it was so much easier. I want... to fight and scream at you, because you almost died-" A choked sob. One stubborn tear escapes, only to be wiped away by Charles' thumb almost immediately. "You almost left me, and I am so fucking  _angry_  with you for that. But I..."

He patiently waits as she finds the words to say, her hand still resting over his heart.

"...I'm just so damn  _relieved_. Losing you again... I don't think I'd be able to handle it. Not again. I just want to scream in joy right now, but I can't. Just as I can't slap you in the face for your stupidity."

"Maybe when the wound heals."

She scoffs, a smile tugging at her lips as she shakes her head at him. "I'm  _seriously_  starting to think you're into that."

His crooked smirk suddenly makes her break, her tears flowing freely.

She thought she'd never see that smirk again.

Her sobs are the only sound in the room as Charles watches her face silently, letting his thumb wipe away each and every teardrop while she tried and tried to regain her composure.

"You're  _back_." Her voice is a strangled thing as she grips his hand tightly, bringing it from her cheek to her lips so she could kiss his knuckles like she has done so many times during the last few days.

Her eyes fall closed and she gathers the courage.

"I love you."

Eleanor is actually surprised. The words just slipped out of her lips so easily. And she doesn't even feel uncomfortable.

She still averts her eyes though, staring down at the bandages instead of looking him in the eyes, and his silence is not unexpected, of course.

But it's still unsettling.

A small, stupid part of her had actually hoped he would say it back...

"Love you too."

Her heart leaps to her throat, wide eyes meeting his again.

It's the first time. The first time  _ever_  they  _both_  say it to each other...

And she couldn't be happier.

Pure joy mixes with the most exciting fear as she lets out a brief, choked laugh. All the love shining in his eyes...

It makes her feel warmer than she ever did before.

He nearly died for her. And she suddenly wants to do everything she can for him.

"Is there anything I can get you? Just name your request, you'll have it."

"Anything?"

Her eyes glint, a stupid smile refusing to leave her lips as she gently holds his face in her hands.

"Anything, my heart. Anything."

"A cigar?"

The request comes quickly and her smile is replaced by a scowl.

"Absolutely not."

"Alcohol, then."

"Charles. Vane."

Her warning tone leaves no room for argument and he rolls his eyes briefly. Those blue depths are filled with mirth though, and she can't help but smirk at his next request.

"Then maybe a kiss? If it's s not too much to ask for too?"

Eleanor does battle hard not to let her amusement show.

But it's useless.

"As many as you want."

It feels as if the world has stopped turning when their lips meet.

After all those kisses they have shared over the past few months... How come this  _magic_  still sparks in such a way?

_Will it ever stop?_

Paradise feels just within her reach as Eleanor pulls away slowly, thumbs stroking those sharp cheekbones, his beard...

"Was I hallucinating..." Charles begins, frowning slightly as she waits for his next words. "Or did you scream at Teach, back at the Ranger?"

She raises her chin out of habit, the left corner of her lips twitching up. "I did. I warned him to stay away from you and it worked. He vanished. The Revenge has been gone for nearly a week now."

Pride fills his eyes. The briefest chuckle escapes his lips as he plays with a strand of her hair.

"My lioness." Eleanor can't help but smile fully at the comparison. "We're so damn lucky your married time didn't extinguish that fire."

For some reason, fresh tears come to her eyes. But she doesn't even give him a second to react.

Her lips crash hard against his again and Charles immediately brings his arms around her. His right hand travels up her back under the blouse, index finger tracing her spine and leaving goosebumps in its wake as her heart beats faster.

And damn it, she  _knows_  he's fragile right now, she  _knows_  he needs some time to recover, but  _how_  can she bring herself to say no? How can she tell him to stop? When she's longing for him in such a way, and to feel him respond to her kiss, her touch, again... It's intoxicating and she never wants it to stop, it needs to go on-

"She did it, darling!"

The door opens abruptly, that familiar voice bringing them back to reality.

Harshly.

"Max is safe-"

Jack stops in his tracks, staring at the bed as they pull away. For only a second, he's completely confused.

And then a bright smile comes to his face.

"You're awake - By all means, do not stop on my account!" He turns around, hurrying back to the door, but then stopping at the last moment and facing them again. "Actually,  _do_  stop on my account, you need to recover after all-"

Charles glares daggers at him while Eleanor laughs and wipes her tears away, getting to her feet.

"Just shut the fuck up and give me a hug."

Only after Jack closes the distance to the hospital bed and pulls her into a tight hug, a huge smile plastered to his face, she realizes what he just said.

Pulling away and meeting his eyes, she tries not to feel too much hope, maybe she heard wrong...

"Is Max safe?"

To her immense relief, his smile doesn't falter.

"Safe and sound. On her way here, in fact. She was adamant about coming to check up on you."

"And Woodes?"

Charles speaks before Jack can answer.

"The fuck is going on?"

They both look at him again. Those little smiles never vanish.

Charles takes a look around, as if realizing something, and the slightest hint of concern comes to his eyes. "Where's Anne?"

"She's okay." Jack is quick to reassure him, squeezing Eleanor's shoulders then stepping closer to the bed. "She had to fly back to LA. Rogers was holding Max and Idelle as his prisoners. He..."

Eleanor rolls her eyes when he glances at her. "Just do it. Just say it. I can handle it."

After a moment's hesitation, Jack sighs heavily, focusing his attention back on Charles. "He tortured Max. Trying to get some answers. Apparently, his current mental state is far worse than we initially thought. He thinks you're hurting Eleanor. And that's not all; he's in league with Ned Low."

Charles meets Eleanor's eyes. Their minds connect and she immediately moves closer, climbing into the bed by his side again. He seems to have grown tired of his current position, and she scowls when he tries to move, to sit up on the mattress.

Their former discussion is forgotten for a few moments as Eleanor helps him move. He fights and doesn't accept it at first, but when it becomes clear he can't do it on his own, he finally lets her assist him. Jack watches the scene in silence, lowering his eyes briefly when Charles nods at him to continue.

"Anne didn't give me too many details when I called her, all I know is that Max gave the governor a false lead. He's looking for the two of you, yes, but far away from here. Let's just wait until the girls come back. So we can have some more information."

Giving Charles a look, he smirks only briefly.

"You missed a lot. But I'll let this one tell you everything. I'm sure you and her are dying for some more alone time." Eleanor lowers her head to hide her soft smile, and after hesitating for a moment, Jack reaches to squeeze Charles' shoulder. "I'm glad you're back."

* * *

_She's smiling so brightly._

_Her eyes dance with happiness._

_"You came back to me."_

_The wind blows on her perfect hair, sunlight hitting her face as she walks closer._

_She's wearing a blue sundress. The exact same color as one of the dresses she wore in the past. It was always his favorite; her eyes looked so beautiful whenever she wore it..._

_Pearly white teeth are revealed when she laughs._

_Why is she so happy?_

_"You're back."_

_The sun is like a halo around her head. She's an angel._

_And she is **his.**_

_His beautiful, beautiful angel._

_Reaching out for her, Rogers doesn't try to fight the smile that comes to his lips._

_All his._

_This perfection, **all his.**_

_But just as he touches her hand, he blinks._

And his perfect wife is gone when his eyes open.

A starry sky greets him instead, and he takes a look around.

"Welcome back, friend." Ned's voice fills his ears and he clenches his jaw, getting to his feet and closing the distance to the bridge.

"I said you were not allowed to touch the helm."

The barbarian shrugs, eyes glued to the ocean. "You fell asleep while steering. Doesn't surprise me, you've been at it for two days straight. I supposed it would be better if I kept the yacht going... After all, the faster we find your Eleanor, the better, isn't that right?"

Still irritated, Rogers shoves him away and takes control over the helm again.

"Where are we?"

With a roll of his eyes, Ned walks away. "Few hours away from Cuba. Oh, and I took the liberty of including Cancun in our list of places to go, I think he could..."

Ned continues to talk.

But he doesn't listen.

His shoulders are tense. Jaw still clenched hard. He's still exhausted, but he  _will_  keep going.

His precious jewel... After the dream/hallucination, his despair to find her has only grown even stronger.

He just needs to have her in his arms again, safe...

And also to gut that monster alive, right before her eyes.

Those sweet thoughts are more than enough to make the exhaustion go away.

* * *

She's biting her lower lip nervously.

Standing in the hallway, right in front of that door.

Maybe she should turn around and walk back into the guest room...

_She's acting like a child._

Gathering her courage, Abigail raises her hand to knock. And just as she's about to do so, the door opens and she comes face to face with her captor... or is he her rescuer?

He's shirtless.

And she's pretty sure her cheeks are red.

Finally lowering her hand, she averts her eyes as Billy says a quick apology and walks away from the door.

He comes back a few seconds later, wearing a shirt now, and she's somehow relieved and bummed at the same time.

_Damn it, what in the world is wrong with her?_

"Hey. Were you able to get some rest?"

She just nods, eyes still lowered to the floor, and there's an uncomfortable silence as they walk to the staircase.

* * *

Mary watches from the living room as Billy leads their new guest to the kitchen, her face an expressionless mask.

He comes back a few minutes later, alone, and she doesn't even have to tell him to come closer.

"I can explain." Her cousin begins in a quiet tone and she scoffs. "Mary, she needed me. The men were going to hurt her, I had to-"

"And what happens when Teach comes back from wherever he went to drown in guilt, what happens to  _us_  when he finds out you have brought an outsider to his kingdom, Billy? What happened to putting Davina first?"

Glancing over his shoulder and making sure Abigail was still in the kitchen, he moves closer to Mary. "About that... We need to talk. I've been thinking. We should leave this place."

Confusion fills Mary's eyes. "What the hell?"

"It's not right. What we do, what happens at the headquarters... This is not a good place to raise a child, and we know that. We need to leave, urgently. Before Teach comes back."

"Something happened... This is not like you, something must have happened to make you think like this, all of a sudden..."

With a heavy sigh, Billy walks over to the window. His eyes soften and he watches his little girl, playing in the sand near the ocean. "I just want Davina to have a better life. To grow up somewhere... safe."

"And Charles? She will never forgive us if we take her away from her brother, especially at such a delicate time."

"Before Charles came here, we agreed we were going to do what was best for Davina, even if that meant leaving him behind." He reminds her, looking at her over his shoulder.

"And what about your new friend?"

Walking closer to Mary again, he speaks in a hushed voice. "Abigail came here seeking Eleanor. I think we should go to the trauma center and tell her about this. Maybe she'll help us."

Mary considers his words for a moment, then nods at him. "Alright. I can head over there right now-"

Her phone rings. With a sigh, she answers the call, just as Davina walks in through the front door.

"Cousin Billy, can I play with Abigail? Please?"

He ruffles her hair as she comes to stand in front of him, but his attention is focused on Mary.

"Really?" She laughs. Her voice is filled with relief. "When?... Okay. I'll... Oh my God, Jack, I can't believe this!" Another laugh. "Alright. I'll tell Davina and we'll be there soon."

Eyes filled with happiness, she ends the call.

"Mama, what happened?"

Mary can't help but let out another short laugh.

"Your brother, baby girl! He's awake!"


	26. The Warning

_**Nassau, Bahamas** _

_**3 years ago** _

_"Papa, read a story? Please?"_

_Fidgeting with the fabric of her pajamas, the 6 year old waits in silence for her father's answer._

_It's way past her bedtime, but her mama is sleeping like a stone again, so she took the opportunity to stay up late. Papa never cared for her bedtime anyway._

_But it's too late in the night now, and it scares her. She wants a story._

_With a heavy sigh, the grown man gets to his feet before wordlessly leading her back to her bedroom._

_"Which one do you want?"_

_Her eyebrows furrowed as she thought about her options. She's grown bored of the books they have here, they're for babies, and she's a big girl._

_With a barely noticeable pout, Davina sits on her bed and meets her father's eyes again. "I want another story."_

_The words are vague, but she knows her father understands their meaning._

_He sometimes tells her stories, about his life before he met her mama, about all the countries he visited..._

_About her big brother._

_But it's been a long time since he last spoke about it._

_"There's nothing else left for me to tell you, child." He speaks with that strange accent and she scowls, lowering her eyes. "Your brother's gone. You will never see him. I should have never mentioned him, let this obsession go now. I don't want to hear another word about him, never again. You're not allowed to ask me about your brother."_

_The harsh words hurt._

_And when her father leaves the room, closing the door behind him and leaving her in the darkness, Davina promises it to herself; she won't ask questions about her big brother anymore._

_It would make papa angry..._

_And she doesn't like it when that happens._

* * *

 

**Somalia**

**Present days**

She can feel his eyes on her.

He's watching her closely as she cleans his wound, and it's impossible to ignore the warm feeling spreading inside her like fire.

"What?" Eleanor asks, finally meeting his eyes. She can't stop smiling, and honestly, she doesn't even want to try.

Not for now.

The right corner of his lips twitch up too, just as she finishes tying the new bandages.

"Reminds me of that time I got my stomach slashed with a sword during one of the hunts. You insisted on taking care of me."

She can't believe he remembers that.

"You were bleeding back then. A lot. I was..." A moment of hesitation. He silently challenges her. And she doesn't want to hide anymore. "...scared. I was scared. I actually believed you were going to die. And that wasn't in my plans... So I wanted to take matters into my own hands."

"Just because my death wasn't in your plans?"

She lowers her eyes to the bandages. Then shakes her head only briefly.

"No. I simply didn't want to lose you, in truth."

His low chuckle sends shivers down her spine.

And so does the feeling of his knuckles brushing her cheek as he reaches for her face.

"Now, was that so hard to admit?"

Meeting his eyes again, she feels her heart skipping a beat.

"Not anymore."

The briefest hint of surprise flashes in his eyes for a split second, and then he offers her a half smile that is enough to illuminate her whole world.

Eyes glinting, she leans in, brushing her lips against his softly. His hand moves to the back of her neck but they don't get the chance to deepen their kiss.

The door suddenly opens, a sweet sound invading the room.

"Charlie!"

Eleanor's first instinct is to pull the blanket so it covered the bandages. Davina doesn't need to see the evidence of what her big brother went through.

The little ball of energy runs to the bed, and Eleanor can see the glint in Charles' eyes as he reaches to ruffle his sister's hair as best as he can while laying down.

"Hey kid."

His voice is still rough and hoarser than usual, but it doesn't seem to disturb the child.

"Charlie, uncle Jack said you were sleeping because you got hurt while trying to protect Eleanor, is it true?"

She says the whole question without pausing to breathe even once, and he hesitates for a couple of seconds. Encouragement shines in Eleanor's eyes when he looks at her face though, and he bends.

"It's true."

Mary comes into the room too, arms crossed as she stares at her former lover. "How're you feeling?"

He shrugs, not noticing the way his sister is looking at him. "Like I just got ran over by a truck."

With a roll of her eyes, she walks closer and gives his shoulder a playful slap. The very same shoulder she treated years ago.

"Now I see why Davina is such a drama queen sometimes. Must run in the family. You'll live. Oh, and before I forget: You're an idiot."

He smirks, but the words she says next make him glare daggers at her.

"An idiot in love. Hopelessly in love, I might add."

With a heavy sigh, he ignores Eleanor's brief chuckle, finally focusing his attention back on his sister.

His frown is automatic.

Her big blue eyes shine with even more admiration than usual. No one has ever looked at him like this before, and he has absolutely no idea how to react.

"What is it?"

"See? I knew you were a hero. You say you're not. But I know you are."

As soon as the words leave Davina's lips, he regrets asking that question.

Sharing a quick look with Eleanor, he pats the mattress.

"C'mere kid."

She obeys, climbing on the bed. Her feet dangle in the air and her eyes remain glued to Charles' face as he struggles to sit up, careful not to expose the bandages.

"Listen, I don't want you to think I'm a hero, alright? Because I'm not. And I don't want to disappoint you."

Eleanor lowers her eyes and Davina frowns, shaking her head.

"But you saved-"

"I did a lot of... bad stuff, Davina. I still do a lot of bad stuff."

The little girl's eyes fill with indignation.

"But Charlie! That doesn't make you meanie, I do bad stuff too, I threw a ball and broke the lamp in the living room. And mama says no balls in the house."

He has to smile at her innocence.

God, how he wishes she could stay forever this pure... Blissfully ignorant and untouched by all the filth of the rest of the world... All the ugliness, all the horrible things...

All the horrible things he did.

"I'm afraid I did much worse than breaking lamps and disobeying rules, kid."

"But you feel sorry for it, right?"

He averts his eyes.

"No. I don't. And I never will."

"Did you hurt someone, Charlie?"

Damn it, she's so _pure_. What would she do if she knew... about everything he did.

"Okay, baby..." Mary interrupts, and he actually offers her a grateful look as she walks closer again, bringing her hands to Davina's shoulders. "You've seen your brother now. And he's okay. But he needs to rest, so-"

Knowing what was coming next, the child pouts and crosses her arms in protest. "But he slept so much!"

Eleanor can't help but laugh at this, some of the tension in the room vanishing like smoke in the air.

"He still needs to rest. And you really need to eat, so come on-"

"Wait." Charles suddenly speaks, and he looks like he has something to ask.

Eyes locked with his sister's, he hesitates for a couple of seconds.

"Kid, there's... something I've been wanting to know for a while now. You said... our father told you about me. You always knew you had a sibling, unlike me, and yet you never told Mary. Why is that?"

Davina frowns, as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. What she says next pierces Charles' heart painfully.

"I didn't want mama to leave."

Mary scowls in confusion as Davina hops down from the bed. "What do you mean by that, sweetie?"

Huffing adorably, the little girl rolls her eyes. "Papa; he said I couldn't ask about Charlie anymore, and then he left the next day."

Both Charles and Eleanor are able to see the tears that come to Mary's eyes.

The hatred for their faceless father burns even stronger, and Charles clenches his fists automatically.

His sister spent the last three years thinking it was her fault that he abandoned her and her biological mother. Three years carrying that huge weight on her shoulders... And they're only finding out about that now.

"Kid, our father is a shit." He speaks immediately and for the first time ever, Mary doesn't admonish him for using such language in front of Davina. "He left because he is a shit. Not because you asked about me. I want you to stop thinking it was your fault, right now. You were a 6 year old girl, and what happened with him, what happened to your birth mother, hadnothing to do with you."

Such hope fills her eyes. Eleanor swallows hard, thinking about her own sense of guilt. Years of hearing her father say she was responsible for Caroline's death...

She just wants to hug Davina so tightly and never let her go.

"Really?" The little girl asks in a quiet voice and Charles nods.

"You think I'd lie to you?" She shakes her head. "Then believe me when I say it was not your fault."

"You could have told me, baby. We could have looked for Charlie together." Mary tells her adoptive daughter, her voice tired and filled with sadness. Davina lowers her eyes.

"Sorry, mama..."

"No, no... It wasn't your fault, alright? Don't apologize. It's okay."

Mary's words are enough to make her eyes light up again, and the adult bends down to drop a kiss to the top of her head before suddenly meeting Eleanor's eyes.

"Eleanor, now that all that hell is over, I need to... talk to you about something important."

The blonde frowns briefly, then fakes a smile for Davina.

"Flint's at the waiting room, go there and ask him to play with you for a bit, I'm sure he'll love that."

A bright look comes to the little girl's face and she nods immediately.

"Okay!"

Davina runs to the door, but stops at the last moment and looks at her brother. She somehow sounds stern and scared at the same time when she speaks.

"Don't go back to that sleep again, Charlie!"

With a half smile, he nods. "Promise, kid."

Once the three adults are alone in the room again, their smiles vanish.

"Did something happen?" Eleanor asks, automatically reaching for Charles' hand and bringing it to rest on her lap.

Mary lets out a heavy sigh.

"Look, I'll just get straight to the point, Billy found something - _someone_ \- during the last hunt he led, and I'm afraid she's your problem and you're gonna have to deal with that."

"She? What-" Eleanor's brain races. And the only possible answer quickly comes to her.

Her eyes fall closed for a moment, and she clenches her jaw briefly before looking at Charles' face.

"Abigail."

The roll of his eyes follows swiftly, his hand tightening around hers as he looked away.

"Exactly. That's her name. Look, I don't know what's your connection with that girl, but all I know is that she's at the safe house right now, and when Teach comes back, he will be livid." Mary shakes her head, eyes locked with Eleanor's while Charles refuses to say anything or even look at them. "I know you two just went through hell, and I'm really sorry to throw all this bullshit into your hands when you should be just enjoying each other again, but you must understand. I need to put Davina first, no one knows when Teach will be back, so we really need to deal with this as quickly as possible."

Her head is already throbbing again. But Eleanor still forces her tired brain to work.

"I need to know a few things before we make any decisions. I need to know why she left her father's house. If she's in any sort of danger. This could be just a teenager's rebellious episode. If it is, I'll send her back to Peter. If not, I will figure something else out... Jesus, I am so fucking _angry_ with her right now."

"You should be." Mary says with a raised eyebrow, walking closer to the door. "Her presence here could lead to disastrous consequences, should Teach come back and find out about it. We need to get rid of her, and it needs to be done soon."

Suddenly realizing just how heavy the atmosphere has become, Mary frowns. Charles still refuses to talk, to look at her or even at Eleanor, his jaw is clenched hard... And she has no idea why he's reacting like this to the news she just delivered.

"You should be." Mary says with a raised eyebrow, walking closer to the door. "Her presence here could lead to disastrous consequences, should Teach come back and find out about it. We need to get rid of her, and it needs to be done soon."

Suddenly realizing just how heavy the atmosphere has become, Mary frowns. Charles still refuses to talk, to look at her or even at Eleanor, his jaw is clenched hard... And she has no idea why he's reacting like this to the news she just delivered.

Letting out a heavy sigh, she continues to talk to the blonde. "The girl's under Billy's care at the moment. Do you want me to bring her here?"

" _No_." Charles finally speaks, answering the question for Eleanor, and she looks over at him. He still refuses to meet her eyes, even if his next words are clearly directed at her. "Go to the safe house. Take Flint with you just in case my uncle happens to come back while you're not with me. Get the answers you need, but you better _not_ bring that girl anywhere near me."

His voice is dripping with hostility and Mary's confusion only grows. It's like this situation just reopened an old wound...

Just another piece to the complicated puzzle that is the occult story these people refuse to tell her.

It seems that, with each piece, this whole thing just gets even weirder.

Making even less sense to her.

Figuring she should leave them alone for now, she tells Eleanor to come to the safe house any time she wants and quickly leaves the room.

Silence hangs heavy in the air as the minutes drag by, and Eleanor stares at the closed door for as long as she can. But her impatience soon becomes unbearable.

"Say something."

"What is there to say?" His voice isn't so harsh anymore. When she looks over at him, he finally meets her stare.

The amount of pain she sees so clearly in his eyes makes her heart break.

"That damn brat has caused enough problems for us already. Send her back."

"What happened that night at the fort wasn't her fault and you know it. You wanna blame someone for that, blame me."

The short, sarcastic laugh that leaves his lips sounds dry and forced.

"What makes you think that I don't?"

_Shit, are they gonna fight already?_

"Still, if it wasn't for that stupid brat-"

"If it wasn't for her you wouldn't have had anything to motivate your men in the first place, and Low would have killed me-"

"I would have found another way."

His words tear a scoff from her lips.

"You think I believe that?"

Damn it, she's slipping back into her old self.

_Focus._

"Let's not allow our past to rear its ugly head right now. Alright? It's the last thing we need."

"That girl brings a damn lot of bad emotion with her. As long as she's near us, sparks will fly and things _will_ be toxic."

Eleanor shakes her head, her hand seeking his again. He doesn't lock their fingers together, but doesn't try to retreat his hand either.

"Only if we let that happen. Don't you see? We can overcome this. It's our chance. Our chance to mend this part of our past."

_Your chance to start trying to forgive me._

He keeps his eyes glued to the wall, anger still written all over his face.

She's not intimidated.

"When we made the decision to stay together in this life... We were also deciding, even if subconsciously, to mend our painful past, one wound at a time, onebetrayal at a time." Grabbing a hold of his chin and forcing him to meet her eyes, she offers him a half smile. "But we can't do that unless we try."

Charles seems to be considering her words. Sighing softly, she moves closer.

"Don't let Abigail's presence get to you. Please... You're stronger than this. We can get through this... I promise we can. After all the hell we just faced, this should be a walk in the park."

It won't be that easy and they both know it.

But at least they're together, and neither of them is on the verge of death now.

Finally, his fingers squeeze hers. It's the only reply she gets to her speech.

And it's already more than enough.

* * *

 

"I still think at any time you're going to tell me it's just a joke."

A warm smile graces his lips as he stares at his sister's face across the table.

Olivia's eyes are still filled with disbelief and a little bit of fear.

"You quit your job. Just like that. What are we gonna do now? We have a 9 year old to provide for, in case you forgot."

The former lieutenant looks over at a door, the room where said 9 year old was sleeping. Even though he can't see his niece at this moment, his eyes still shine with affection.

"Elijah Liam Utley." He grimaces at the mention of his full name, focusing back on his sister. "You better look at me while I'm talking to you."

Everyone else always calls him by his last name. His two girls are the only exception to that rule.

Staring at Olivia's worried face, he sighs.

Even though she's his twin, she looks years younger. Her face is simply so flawless, delicately curved eyebrows, full lips and a nose that... looks a lot like Eleanor's, in fact. Those perfect features are framed by long, wavy dark hair, the exact same color his own hair would be he let it grow.

Olivia, she could easily pass for a 20 year old. It's almost as if time has stopped for her the day she gave birth to her daughter. She does _not_ look like she's 29 already.

She's skinny, shorter than him, and she's always complaining about the fact she didn't inherit those unique cheekbones from their mom, like he did. They're fraternal twins, and she'll never forgive mother nature for that.

Melissa, on the other hand... She does have those cheekbones and his jawline, and they're becoming more and more apparent as she grows.

_Uncle Elijah's little girl._

She looks more like his child than Olivia's.

"Remember you're only older than me by two minutes. You can't lecture me like that." He tells her with a smirk, and she rolls her eyes. "You know I would never quit my job unless I had... something to keep us afloat for a while."

"What do you mean?"

Grief flashes in his eyes momentarily.

"Melissa's godfather... You know how much Woods loved her. Before the cancer claimed him, he requested some time alone with me. He wanted to make sure his godchild would have a good life. So without his wife's knowledge, without Mason and Woodes' knowledge, he... left me some money."

Olivia's eyebrows raise immediately and she leans forward on her seat. "Exactly how much money are we talking about here?"

"Let's just say it's enough to send Melissa to college... at least three times."

A slow smile starts to form on her face, but then she shakes her head. "Why did you never tell me?"

"I didn't want anyone to know. If it reached Mason and Woodes' ears, or their mother's... It would have been a disaster for us."

This seems to satisfy her, and Olivia laces her fingers together on the table.

"All that money... You're planning something, aren't you?"

"Remember all the times we talked about leaving? Well, now's our big chance."

Her eyes go wide. She takes a quick glance at the door to Melissa's room.

"You can't be serious. All of a sudden? Where would we go?"

"Why not? There's nothing left for us in this place. As for our destination... Someone mentioned the Bahamas to me, recently." Olivia is staring at him as if he grew a second head, but he's not discouraged. "Strangely, I want to go. I feel it's the right decision. It's such a beautiful place. Melissa will love it."

She lowers her eyes. Bites her lower lip and frowns only briefly.

He knows his twin. He knows he's winning.

"The sun. Museums about pirates. That blue, bright sea. Melissa playing with the dolphins. And more than enough money for us to survive while I look for a new job. You can do the same if you want, now that we'll have the means to afford a nanny, remember?"

Seconds drag by and he watches as her smile returns, oh so slowly.

He knows what her answer will be before she even speaks.

"Alright. Let's do this." Meeting his eyes again, she laughs. Her voice is filled with hope and joy. "Let's do this!"

* * *

 

"What the _fuck_ were you thinking?"

Abigail flinches as that angry voice cuts the silence. Her smile vanishes and she shrinks into her seat slightly, lowering her eyes.

Eleanor is standing in front of the couch, glaring at her like a stern parent while Billy watches them from the entrance to the living room.

"Do you have any idea how _stupid_ that was? Do you know what could have happened to you? If it wasn't for Billy, you'd be dead by now!"

Finally, the teen meets her role model's eyes again. She didn't even get a hug. Or a smile. Eleanor has been giving her this serious, angry look since the moment she stepped foot in the safe house.

"I'm sorry." Her quiet voice and words make the older woman scoff. "I... kinda had no other choice."

"You ' _kinda_ ' had no other choice. Just how-"

"She's telling the truth. Hear what she has to say." Billy comes to Abigail's defense and Eleanor throws him a dark glare too.

"You stay out of this, it does not concern you."

"Actually, it does concern me, yes." His eyes are empty while he looks at the blonde, carefully walking closer. "After all, she's under my care, isn't she?"

Eleanor looks down at the teenager again just in time to see her duck her head. Her cheeks are blushing and the sight is almost enough to bring a smirk to her face.

_Looks like someone has a crush on her savior._

Great, just what she needed.

Things are a mess already, the last thing she needs is a teenager in love, it will be much harder to deal with her...

Now you know how Scott felt, three centuries ago.

Eleanor has to scoff at that thought. Looks like karma is finally making her pay for all the hell she put her father figure through back then.

But this is just an innocent crush... right?

"Alright." She focuses back on Abigail, raising an eyebrow and tilting her head to the side. "Tell me your story. And be quick, there's someone else who needs me back at the medical center, and the sooner I'm done here, the better."

The teen sighs, swallowing hard before raising her head again.

"It's dad. You were right about him. He was manipulating me. And I found out about something, something so horrible... Are you ready to hear it?"

Eleanor's scowl only grows. A nagging feeling starts to come creeping in and she does her best to ignore it, nodding at the young girl.

"My dad and yours... I heard their conversation. They're involved in illegal wildlife trafficking... They're criminals, Eleanor!"

"I know." A gasp comes from Abigail, and Eleanor shrugs. "I've known since I was 13, and you were 6."

Billy is leaning against the wall nearby, arms crossed as he watches the scene curiously. It pisses her off and she clenches her jaw, but doesn't spare a glance his way.

"Why did you never tell me?"

_Because I didn't want to harm my father._

Shaking her head, Eleanor takes a step closer to the couch. "I didn't want to overwhelm you, at such a young age. This is a lot to take in."

"Then why didn't you sell them out? Are... are you working with them? Is this why you came to Africa?"

Chocolate eyes fill with horror and Eleanor notices how the teen immediately looks over at Billy.

As if she already sees him as her only hope, if her role model turns out to be a monster too.

"Of course not. You know me. As I said... I didn't want you to know. I was... waiting until you got older. I simply didn't want to hurt you."

This lie seems to satisfy her, and Abigail suddenly smiles brightly. Her eyes fill with pride, just like every other time she's about to tell Eleanor about an accomplishment of hers.

"It doesn't matter now. They're gonna be stopped. Both of them."

That nagging discomfort suddenly grows so much stronger. With a frown, Eleanor takes another step closer. "What exactly do you mean?"

"My friend Ashley, I asked her to wait a few days until I was in Africa already, so she could do me this favor. I don't know if she did it already because I got rid of my phone before I left the country, but she'll go to the authorities. Our fathers are going to pay for their crimes!"

Her eyes fall closed.

_Shit._

Not saying another word, she hurries back to the front door, unaware of the heavy footsteps following close behind.

Only when a large hand closes around her upper arm does she stop, one hand already on the doorknob. Looking back over her shoulder, she narrows her eyes in warning.

"You better think twice before touching me again."

Unfazed by her threatening tone, Billy makes sure Abigail didn't follow them and speaks in a hushed voice.

"Listen, I don't give a fuck about the past and all that bullshit-"

She scoffs, interrupting his words. "Oh? Then why aren't you shaking hands and making peace with the man standing guard right outside this house?"

His jaw clenches briefly. But he chooses to ignore her words.

"I don't know why you're in such a hurry, and I honestly don't care. But we do need to talk about that one. " He gestures towards the living room. "What are we gonna do? People are gonna notice she's missing from her father's house, especially when Mr. Ashe is arrested. We need to do something. And we need to be quick, if Teach comes back and finds her here-"

Feeling a headache coming on, Eleanor bites her lower lip, thinking hard for a brief moment.

"Peter can burn in hell. I'll deal with the legal implications, even if I have to go back to LA with Abigail, I'll find a way to have this girl emancipated. But for now it's imperative that we get her out of this place. I will ask Flint to travel with her-"

"No." His voice comes out so harsh and she's stunned for a brief second. "I want to leave this place with Mary and Davina. Might as well take Abigail too, I did promise to take care of her."

Narrowing her eyes, she raises her chin. "And where, pray tell, do you plan on going with a child and a teenage girl?"

"I thought about home."

"The _governor_..." She's impressed by the amount of disdain in her voice when she speaks the title. "...is searching the seas around Nassau for me, and I don't want him anywhere near Davina."

Billy does raise an eyebrow, but makes the wise decision of keeping any comments about her current relationship with Woodes to himself.

"Then what do you suggest? Should we go live as beggars in South Africa, or do we sit here, waiting for Teach to arrive?"

Glaring daggers at him for his insolence, she tears her arm away from his grip. "I know a place you can go, all four of you, but you need to wait until I solve a few more pressing matters."

"And Vane? He'll probably be livid if I try to take his sister away."

"I can deal with Charles. Just give me... an hour, maybe two. I'll come back to tell you more then. For now, just keep doing what you're doing."

Just before she walks out the front door, Eleanor gets to see the briefest glint of relief in his eyes. Almost as if he's grateful to have her here, taking care of everything.

_Just like the good old days._

* * *

 

He looks away as soon as she steps foot inside the hospital room again.

His silence is still unnerving, and that old instinct to fight tries to take her over. His behavior is pissing her off and as usual, she has no patience for his bullshit.

But the pain caused by recent events still lingers, and instead of reacting as she always did, she surprises both of them by stalking over to the bed.

He's sitting up, and finally looks over at her with a raised eyebrow.

Giving him no time to react, Eleanor grabs his face with both hands and crashes her lips to his.

She knows he can never reject her. And just as she expected, his arms come around her waist and he responds immediately, pulling her closer. Some of his strength is back already, and she's relieved to say the least.

She feels him smirking against her lips when a short moan sounds at the back of her throat, thanks to his hands squeezing the back of her thighs, pulling her even closer until she suddenly finds herself on the bed with him.

_How in the world_ did he manage that? He just woke up from a coma, for fuck's sake-

His roaming hands, those soft bites to her lower lip, that hot tongue caressing hers so sinfully...

_Now our fathers are going to pay for their crimes!_

She can't believe she almost forgot the current crisis.

Charles doesn't even try to hide his displeasure when she breaks their kiss and pulls away.

And all she wants is to start it all over again, but...

"I know you're still angry." Her fingers stroke his jawline, eyes locked with his. "But there's something I need to do, and... I really need your support."

He raises an eyebrow again, silently questioning her, and she reaches for her phone on the bedside table.

"I need to speak to someone. Please, don't freak out. Just wait and listen to the conversation. I'll leave it on speaker... And I promise I will explain everything. I just hope you will give me the chance to do so."

The only reply she gets is even more silence. Sighing heavily and straightening up, she lets her legs dangle off the side of the bed.

And dials a number she hasn't even looked at for at least 6 months.

Tears burn in her eyes, and her heart beats wildly as she waits for him to pick up the call.

_"Who is this?"_

Charles' eyes darken.

And she just wants to cry.

But she needs to keep her voice from breaking at all costs, so she locks her emotions away for now.

"Father. It's me."

* * *

 

The men he has brought with him to help with the ship are playing some stupid dart game, and he's so damn close to throwing each one of them overboard...

Taking a deep breath to try and calm his nerves, Teach looks at the Island in the distance.

They're anchored near Madagascar, and it's been many days since the last time he contacted the headquarters.

Is it possible that he's scared to do so? Scared of the news he will receive?

The last time he called... They were very sincere. His nephew's chances at survival were practically non existent.

What if he's already gone by now?

Will he go back to a heirless kingdom?

And it will be all his fault...

For the first time in forever, he stops to truly think about _her_.

The words she said to him, just before he left Cuba with his newborn nephew... That warning she gave him.

It all makes perfect sense now.

His eyes soon darken with hatred.

Why should he care about her advices and stupid warnings? After what she did, what she did to Naomi, everything she cost him...

That woman is dead to him.

Dead, buried, and she has no place in his heart.

_Not anymore._

But Charles, on the other hand...

He's acting like a coward. The least he can do is call for news about his boy... Even if said news will probably tear his heart to pieces.

But at least he will have something to live for...

_If Charles dies, she dies too._

He _will_ make good on that promise.

Gathering his courage, Teach calls the medical center.

And as the doctor tells him about his boy's current state and his miraculous recovery, he doesn't know how to feel.

But soon, the thirst for revenge is replaced by a deep sense of relief.

Ending the call, he stares at the huge Island in the horizon and allows himself to _laugh_.

He didn't kill his nephew.

_Charles is alive._

But the question now is only one.

_Will his boy ever want to see him again?_

* * *

 

He's shaking her head at her slowly, blue eyes shining with the pain of a betrayal, and fuck, the sight tears her heart to pieces.

Richard hasn't said another word yet and Eleanor reaches for Charles' hand but he tears it away from her grasp immediately.

This almost makes her lose control and shed a tear.

_Almost._

"I'm calling to give you a warning. You need to betray your 'business partner'. You know what I mean. Get rid of any evidence. Cut any ties between you and him. Prepare to defend yourself, do whatever you must. Someone is going to sell you out, both of you. And you need to be ready to prove your... 'innocence', when that happens. I trust you will have no problem betraying your childhood best friend in order to save yourself, am I right?"

He stays silent. And it's all the confirmation she needs.

_Like father, like daughter, it seems._

That thought hurts her heart far more than it should.

Finally, the man on the other side of the line clears his throat.

_"How much time?"_

"I'm not certain. That's why you need to act soon. Oh, and... One more thing... Our Château in the Bavarian Alps. You're not allowed to go there until further notice. A friend of mine will be staying there for the time being."

She can practically see him clenching his jaw, hatred burning like fire in his eyes.

But he can't say anything.

He can't rebuke.

And God above, how she loves this feeling. Having this amount of power over this man.

Have him follow her every command, obeying her like a slave.

It's so _invigorating_.

She doesn't even realize she's smirking, until he surprises her.

_"Where are you, Eleanor?"_

Her frown is automatic but she recovers quickly.

"It's none of your concern. Now go take care of this mess right away, you have lots to do. Unless you want to be dragged to a cell, of course." By now, Charles is glaring at the nearest wall, completely unmoving. His fists are clenched around the sheets, and she sighs. "Good luck, father."

He has no time to reply. But he probably wouldn't anyway, so it doesn't even matter.

"Why?"

Closing her eyes and massaging her temples, Eleanor tries not to unleash her emotions. "You know why. You're not stupid."

"You didn't want to lose your leverage."

He sounds so hesitant... As if he really wants that to be the truth, but at the same time, he's scared she'll tell him he's wrong.

But he's not.

Forcing a smile, Eleanor brings one hand to the center of his chest.

"Exactly. A friend of Abigail's is going to the authorities soon. You and I both know my father is a spiteful one. Surely, he would think I was responsible for that. And he would somehow make a scene and alert the world, make everyone think I was kidnapped... My face would be all over the news in no time, my grandparents would make sure of that. We would have to live on the run, thank to my father's little revenge. But now we're safe, it seems."

Charles lowers his eyes. And she realizes, once again, just how fresh the wounds left by her betrayals still are, despite all the progress they've been making over the last six months.

_Will that ever change?_

Features finally softening, she reaches out to caress his face, moving closer to him on the mattress.

"Did you really think I was going to go back to him and leave you?"

The brief, barely noticeable hint of insecurity she sees in his eyes when he looks at her face brings her tears back as she suddenly realizes it.

He's still thinking she's going to leave him sooner or later, like she always did. She's been by his side all this time, sharing each night, each morning, each day with him... And this is probably the very definition of paradise for this man.

He doesn't want to lose that, now that he finally has it.

Maybe it's only logical for him to worry.

Forcing a smile, Eleanor brings her other hand to his face too.

"I've remained by your side, when the most logical decision would be to flee this place. But I stayed. And not only did I stay, I also drove the king away, again. Away from his kingdom, away from you. I've been giving orders around here for days now. I'm not going anywhere at this point. I'm right where I belong, and it's the best feeling in the world... Even though sometimes I feel like having you hanged again."

She makes sure to let the sarcasm show clearly in her voice when she says that last phrase and thankfully, the right corner of his lips twitch up. Partially veiled adoration shines in his eyes and damn it, he's just so handsome when he looks at her like that...

She's about to give in and kiss him again...

"You're sending Abigail to the château, aren't you?"

"Not only her. Mary and Davina too."

His scowl returns.

_Okay, here we go again..._

"You think you can just make a decision about my sister-"

"We don't know what awaits us once you recover enough and we leave here, Charles. We just know we'll need to run from your uncle. Mary has told me a few days ago, that she knows about a place we can go, but not even her knows how to describe that island... We'll be literally sailing into the unknown. Do you think it's wise to bring a 9 year old girl with us? The château, it's isolated and safe... I know you want Davina near us. I do. And trust me; I would like the same thing. But we need to do what's best for her. Hey." Forcing him to look at her again as soon as he averts his eyes, Eleanor lets her thumb stroke his skin. "You _know_ I'm right."

He remains silent. Probably realizing that yes, she was right yet again.

"Don't you prefer to know where she is? Billy was going to take her from this place anyway-"

Fury flashes in his eyes. "I'll cut his head off before he can take my sister-"

"I _agree_ with him."

The dark glare he throws at her makes her bite her lower lip.

"You _what_?"

"Charles, this is no place for a little girl. I once grew up in a similar environment... Look what happened to me."

The briefest hint of sympathy graces his features. He reaches for her hand, and the gesture fills her with relief.

"Please don't fight with me. Not now. All the hell I've lived is still so damn fresh in my mind and I don't want us to fight."

After hesitating for a few seconds, he lets out a heavy sigh.

Holding an arm out towards her.

"Come here."

His voice is extra raspy when he says those words, she can't help but smile softly.

And this is a command she's more than happy to obey.

Snuggled against his side, enjoying the feeling of his calloused fingers leaving feather-like caresses in their wake, Eleanor suddenly thinks about something. And she really wants him to know about it too.

"Remember when I told you that... Woodes woke up one night and heard me calling out for you in my sleep?" He nods as she meets his eyes, and she can't stop smirking. "Well, I was dreaming about that day in the cell, but it was a different version of it. A muchdifferent version."

His interest is definitely piqued. He narrows his eyes, tilting his head to the side slightly while staring at her. And she knows she'll have to tell him everything.

Not that she minds it.

"In the dream, after you told me about my father, I broke. I realized my mistake. So I set you free, and you had me against a wall in the blink of an eye. You were so angry... I really thought you were going to choke me to death. But then... As soon as I had the chance, I kissed you. I just thought it was the only way to ease your fury. And well, it worked." She sighs, moving even closer subconsciously. "Even if it was a dream, I still remember the feeling... Your hands undoing that damn corset. I was still wearing the dress, the upper half of it undone and exposing my body, you tore a good portion of it _and_ the undergarments. Next thing I knew, my skirts were bunched up at my waist and my legs were around your hips, I couldn't breathe, all that heat... And yet there was no other place in the world I'd rather be. But paradise couldn't last for too long, and soon... _He_ woke me up. Mad with rage. I'm sure my voice was betraying me while I called your name, and he must have realized what I was dreaming about."

She has to chuckle at the cruel thought. But he doesn't react in the same way.

And when she looks at his face again, his eyes are dark.

It's been a while since the last time she saw him like this... But she knows very well what that look means.

Before she can blink, he's kissing her again. His hands on her hips pull her in impossibly closer, the hospital bed creaking beneath them with the sudden harshness of their movements. Her heart rate increases and his intentions are very, very clear.

Large hands travel over her body, moving under her blouse and squeezing her waist, her back, before moving to her thigh. Her skirt offers him easy access to her skin, and she actually forgets about his current state... For only a minute, until her hand travels down his exposed stomach and meets the fabric of the bandages.

Regretfully breaking their kiss, she tries to catch her breath.

A task made difficult, since Charles immediately moves to her neck, teeth attacking her sensitive skin. She does grasp at his hair, but refuses to give in, even as he unbuttons the front of her blouse.

"We can't do this right now-"

"Will you deny a man his dying wish?"

His husky voice close to her ear makes her shiver and roll her eyes at the same time.

"You're _not_ dying."

Not anymore.

"So you even dreamed about it... Me, fucking you in those proper englishwoman dresses, right under _his_ nose, was _that_ what you wanted?"

A new wave of heat settles between her thighs, her nails digging into his shoulders.

She knows she should stop him, but it's been so long... She's aching for him, needing some more. His words only make it even worse.

And of course, she knows he won't be able to go too far, given his current state, but he's too stubborn to listen.

So she'll just let him realize that on his own.

Her fingers flirt with the edges of the bandages teasingly, refusing to move lower, and he claims her lips again. Even though she wishes they could go all the way, feeling his touch again... It's already more than enough for her.

But not for him, it seems.

A low, urgent growl sounds at the back of his throat when he moves to cover her body with his - Or at least that's what he tries to do.

Their kiss is broken again, but this time by his sudden, pained groan.

Eleanor gives him a look, concern flickering in her eyes anyway as she helps him to his previous position.

After making sure he didn't reopen his wound, she presses one last, brief kiss to his lips and gets to her feet, going in search of his pain medicine.

She knows night has fallen already, so it's a good thing those pills always make him sleepy in a matter of minutes.

"It doesn't matter how long we have to wait." She tells him quietly, brushing some hair away from his face and watching as he swallowed the pills. "You need to recover, then everything will go back to normal-"

"How long will that take?"

She shrugs, moving away from the bed again to change into her nightwear, fully aware of his eyes on her body.

Maybe it's a little bit too cruel, but she takes dark pleasure in it.

"Maybe not too long. You did surprise all the doctors with your strength to fight, didn't you? And anyway..." She offers him a wicked smile, getting under the thin sheet by his side and helping him to lay down. "I'm sure we can figure something else in the meantime."

At her words, he smirks.

After one slow, deep and unhurried kiss, he stares at her face with sleepy eyes. Just like his sister does, whenever she reads her a bedtime story.

Unable to contain herself, Eleanor moves to press her lips to his forehead.

The message in her eyes is clear when she pulls away.

_I love you._

The corners of his lips twitch up. Then he finally gives in to sleep.

She follows soon after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Melissa and Olivia. If anyone wants to be able to picture them better, I'm using the woman and the little girl from the "Wake me Up" official video clip as their face models. I just think that child looks a lot like Utley, and Kristina Romanova is too gorgeous :D


	27. "C. V."

Her eyes move from the needle to the fabric, then to the needle again. Her fingers are so damn clumsy and she has definitely lost practice...

"The fuck are you doing?"

_Busted._

His voice, still husky from sleep, makes her stop immediately.

_Damn it, why did he have to wake up now?_

Their eyes are locked together, her fingers holding the needle and the fabric of his pillowcase awkwardly.

And she shrugs, going back to her task.

"Just a little something, a detail from the past that's been bugging me and I really wanted to get it right. You will be able to check it out soon, it's almost ready."

Charles frowns, trying to angle his head to see what she was up to, but failing miserably.

Silence stretches and she uses her arm to shield her work from his view.

He does notice she's working with a needle... And a thread. She suddenly hisses in pain and he's just about to tease her when she finally pats the pillow, moving away and letting out a soft sigh.

"There. Now I'm at peace."

Charles allows her to help him sit up. His eyes go to the left side of his pillow immediately, and he frowns at what he finds.

There's a mess of red threads... It's chaos, but he can still see the shapes clearly.

_C V._

His lady Honeypot just embroidered his initials on his pillowcase.

"It seems I lost practice, but well..."

"I'm glad you did... You didn't have to do this, you know?"

She grimaces, shaking her head.

Charles doesn't fail to notice how the corners of her lips twitch up.

"I wanted to. You know how systematic I am... And I trust you're aware that this-" She touches his initials on the pillow. "Is something I did before... But the embroidery I gave  _him_  was much more beautiful-"

"This one has your essence." He interrupts her, and she frowns at him. "It's a fucking mess. And it couldn't be more perfect."

Eleanor ducks her head. But he sees the soft smile gracing her lips.

Only then, Charles notices the droplet of blood on her index finger.

"This must be some sort of curse." She says, forcing a chuckle as he holds her injured finger gently. "I swear... Every single time I tried to work with a needle,  _this_  happened. And it seems this misfortune has followed me into this new life."

"Then don't do it anymore."

She shakes her head. "I won't. It was just... Something I really needed to do."

"It does look good, in fact. And I appreciate it, a lot..." He reaches to brush a stray strand of hair behind her ear, bringing her finger to his lips. "...but this isn't you. You don't have to act as that proper lady anymore. You don't have to offer me that distorted version of yourself. The one you offered him. I don't  _want_  it." He actually  _kisses_  the blood away. And licks his lips right after.

For some reason, it makes her feel all warm on the inside.

But another droplet soon appears and her eyes dance as he brings her index finger to his bandages.

They both stare at the small crimson stain on the white fabric and then he pays close attention to her skin, making sure the bleeding had stopped.

"At least you showed a reaction to the embroidery." She mutters, and he frowns in confusion.

"What?"

"Nothing..." Eleanor sighs, then smiles at him. "So... Ready for your walk?"

* * *

"We are looking for a missing young woman." Ned rolls his eyes behind his boss' back as he talks to an old man in the harbor. "Blonde, blue-green eyes and pale skin... But she could have a different look nowadays... You said you work here. I need to know if you've seen a sailing ship in this port. Her name's probably Ranger-"

"No sailing ship. Sorry." The man says, narrowing his eyes in silent suspicion. "What happened to this girl?"

"She's my bride. Someone took her away."

"Shouldn't you be talking to the police, then?"

Clenching his jaw, Rogers does his best to grasp at his self control. "It is a delicate situation."

"I see..." The old man takes a look at Ned, then focus on him again. "Sorry, are you  _sure_  she was taken against her will?"

He doesn't answer.

Turning around harshly, he stalks back to the end of the pier, fists clenched tightly at his sides. Ned follows close behind.

The beautiful, bright blue sea of the Cayman Islands cradles the Eurydice as the two men board her again.

"Another one, same question again... Why do you think that is?" Ned teases him, the corners of his lips twitching up while he stared at the ocean.

But Rogers doesn't detect his mocking tone, sitting on one of the chaise lounges on the deck. Burying his face in his hands, he takes a deep breath.

_Three_  harbors.

At least  _ten_  people interrogated.

And  _no signs_  of his wife, her kidnapper or even that  _damned_  ship.

"How do you even know he has a sailing ship?"

Scoffing, he finally meets his new lackey's eyes.

"He does. A tiger never changes its stripes. Such a savage like him would never be able to adapt to modern ships like this beauty."

Reaching out to stroke the rail of the Eurydice proudly as if to emphasize his words, he shakes his head. "I am 100% certain he still prefers to stick to the old fashioned, slow piles of wood."

Ned had to laugh at his words. "I wouldn't underestimate the power of the good old sailing ships if I were you, friend. His ' _pile of wood_ ' could very well outrun this little can of yours, especially if the engines decide to fail you..." He glances around, disapproval written all over his face. "Maybe you should consider the idea of getting some sails..."

Rubbing his temples, Rogers wonders for the 1000th time how the hell they haven't killed each other yet.

Pulling out his phone to check his mailbox and doing his best to block out that annoying voice, he takes a deep breath.

His features soften just a bit when he opens a picture Sarah had just sent him.

A toothless smile.

Eyes identical to his.

His  _son_.

_Little Aiden Connor..._

And the words " _please come home_ " above the picture.

For a moment, he actually stalls.

But then he turns off his phone, getting to his feet. His eyes are dark again.

"Weigh anchor. We're off to Jamaica next."

* * *

"Remember what the doctor said..." Charles rolls his eyes at the words, letting Eleanor help him walk. "...only ten minutes every day for now."

Her arm is around him, he's leaning on her only slightly as they walk the corridor.

And he's  _not_  ready to go back to that damn bed again.

At least this time Flint's deeper underground getting some rest. Those sarcastic looks piss him off so damn much.

And so does the worried look on his best friend's face as he rushes to their side.

"Are you making him drink a lot of water? Is he eating?"

Jack has developed this annoying habit of treating him like a child, always asking Eleanor about his current state, and wanting to make sure everything was going well.

These two are officially a royal pain in his ass.

"For  _fuck's_  sake, when is Anne arriving?" He mutters under his breath, and all three of them look over as the door of the corridor suddenly opens.

Eleanor almost lets go of him and leaves his side, a bright smile coming to her face.

A smile that vanishes just a second later, when she notices the bruises all over Max's face, and the scarring cut on her collarbone.

Anne exhales sharply, rushing toward the pair and surprising everyone by throwing her arms around Charles' neck. His eyes fall closed and he returns the hug with one arm, the other one still around Eleanor's shoulder.

The blonde looks away from them, reaching out for Max as she walked over to stand in front of her.

"Surprise. I went to pick them up a while ago."

She barely registers Jack's words, inspecting the damage made to her ex-lover's face. Hatred burns even stronger in her heart and she clenches her jaw hard, eyes darkening.

"He did this."

It's not a question, but still, Max nods, forcing a weak smile.

"I'm glad you didn't lose him again."

Anne shares a quick, meaningful look with her mentor as she pulls away, and he brings one hand to her shoulder, squeezing it gently. Neither of them speaks, but the three other people know that the look they just shared was worth more than a thousand words.

Charles meets Max's eyes then, and she nods at him. "Thank you for what you did. She could be dead right now, if it wasn't for your quick reflexes."

He doesn't answer.

"Idelle?"

Max lowers her eyes briefly. "She didn't want to come. She's already in Nassau with Featherstone. And she's still very shaken. With good reason."

"What did that  _animal_  do to her?"

She's clearly taken aback by the amount of hate in Eleanor's voice, but it's a very nice surprise.

"Your ex-husband didn't touch her. It was Low. He..."

She trails off, shaking her head, and Eleanor's eyes fill with horror. She shares a look with Charles, and he clenches his jaw.

"When we meet, he better be ready to have his head severed again."

Sighing heavily, she meets Max's stare again. "How long will you be staying?"

"I just wanted to check up on you guys. I won't push my luck, the king could come back any minute, and I'm aware of that. Jack will take me back to the nearest airport in a couple of hours and I will sleep there if I have to."

Nodding, Eleanor checks the time on her phone. "I told Mary I'd help her with dinner. You should eat."

Max actually smiles for real. "I have missed that one. Care if I tag along? I'd like to see her and the little one again."

"Absolutely. Let me just take him back to the room and get him to bed-"

"I'll do it."

Anne finally speaks, and Eleanor looks at her face im silence for a moment.

Then she smiles briefly, nodding in assent. "Alright. You two probably have a lot to talk about anyway."

Max touches her cheek then, her lips a tight line. "Your eyes are still a little puffy... You must have cried rivers..."

Jack snorts, smirking at the blonde. " _Rivers_? More like oceans. It actually got to the point I was sure her tears would flood the entire facility."

Eleanor gives him a look. "It wasn't  _that_  bad."

"We're lucky the Nile isn't too close, or else we'd have all been doomed." Anne says, surprising all of them again by offering Eleanor a half smile.

Not acid or sarcastic... Simply a  _smile_.

She's stunned for a moment, but soon she rolls her eyes and lets the redhead take her place.

"I'll come back in an hour or so, alright?"

Charles nods at her, and Max can't help but smile softly at the quick kiss they share.

As Anne helps her mentor back to the hospital room, the three other people walk away.

There's a strange sense of peace in the air, and none of them minds it.

* * *

"That little girl, I think she's one of ours."

Frowning at Max's words, she continues to watch Davina from the door. "What do you mean?"

Rolling her eyes, Max shoves her shoulder lightly. "Almost losing the love of your life has made you slow, I see. Do I have to paint a rainbow on Davina's forehead to make you understand?"

Her scowl only grows, and Eleanor finally meets her eyes

"You think she's..."

"She's a  _child_. Too young for me to be able to tell for sure. But mark my words. That girl? She will not grow up to be straight. She will either be like you, or like me. You know I can sense this sort of stuff."

Sighing and making a mental note to talk about this with Charles later, Eleanor takes one last look at the little girl playing a memory game with Abigail in the living room before stepping away from the door.

Max follows her as she slowly heads to the stairs and sits on one of the steps.

"Do you blame me? For what my ex-husband did to you and Idelle?"

Lowering her eyes for a moment, Max shakes her head. "Why would I do that? It wasn't your fault. It's not your fault he has gone mental."

She pauses, and Eleanor knows her far too well...

"However, it  _is_  your fault if he's obsessed with you. You should have never married him in the first place, none of this would be happening today. You brought that monster into our lives, you  _kept_  that monster in our lives and for that, I'm afraid I can never forgive you." Eleanor averts her eyes, trying to swallow her emotions. "I admit I did feel some resentment towards you, during my torture, and there were times I came so awfully close to telling him everything... But I know he's traitorous like the sea during a storm, I knew there was the chance he wouldn't let us go, even if I gave him your location. So I kept my mouth shut."

"Thank you." Meeting her eyes again, Eleanor forces a smile. "I don't know what I would have done... With Charles in a coma, and that bastard showing up here... I wouldn't have been able to protect him."

"You kissed him in front of us. I can see you two have made a lot of progress..."

Her smile grows. "I told him I loved him. Right after he woke up... He answered."

"Three hundred years... Took you long enough, huh?"

Eleanor opens her mouth to speak, but then Mary emerges from the kitchen. "There's no way I'm gonna let you sleep in an airport. You're spending the night here and it's final."

Shaking her head, Eleanor gets to her feet. "She needs to go away. Teach-"

" _Teach_... Is currently far, far away from here. Billy asked some of his closest colleagues to go on a search and they spotted the Revenge... near Madagascar. They just called to let us know about that. So you, Max  _and_  Abigail are safe for a few days."

The relief is so huge that Eleanor actually lets out a brief laugh.

One less thing for her to worry about, now she can just focus on Charles and his recovery.

It seems luck has finally returned to their side.

* * *

The bowl is still warm in her hands and she's grateful for that.

For some reason, the temperature has dropped drastically since she left the medical center, and Eleanor regrets her decision of going to the safe house without a jacket in hand.

But soon she'll be back in her pirate's embrace, and the cold will be nothing but a distant memory.

Allowing herself to smile, she reaches the door. Her features grow serious again as soon as she walks into the room.

Anne is sitting on the edge of the bed, and both her and Charles look over at Eleanor immediately.

Her eyes narrows when she detects something in the air.

"Why does this room smell of cigarette smoke?"

Clearly repressing a smirk, Anne gets to her feet and wordlessly walks out the door. Glaring at the pirate like a stern parent, Eleanor walks over to the bed, setting the bowl on the small table nearby.

A brief kiss to his lips confirms her suspicions.

Scoffing, she shakes her head in disapproval.

"Should have known it was a stupid idea to leave the two of you alone. How much did you smoke?"

Charles shrugs, smirking at her. "I'm still alive, that's all that counts."

Her eye roll is automatic, but soon the corners of her lips twitch up.

She reaches for the bowl and Charles immediately loses his infuriating half smirk.

"I made it myself... And it's the best food for this kind of weather. Not to mention, it will do you some good... Unlike filling your poor lungs with smoke."

He knows it would be useless to argue.

Swallowing his pride, he grabs the bowl from her hands and she watches with a smirk as he eats the vegetable soup she brought from the safe house.

"There. Was it such a torture?" After walking away to give the bowl to one of the nurses outside the room, she locks the door and changes into one of her nightgowns.

Teasing him again.

He rolls his eyes, but his irritation is short lived.

She grabs an extra blanket, climbs into bed by his side and pulls it over their bodies. His arms are around her in the blink of an eye.

"You're cold?" He asks in a quiet voice, feeling the goosebumps all over the skin of her arms.

She shakes her head, snuggling closer and inhaling his scent deeply. "Not anymore."

"What was that between you and my protégée? Just before you left for the safe house. You two had a little moment."

She just sighs. His chuckle sends shiver down her spine.

"You lost the bet. Didn't you?"

"Bet?" She asks with a confused frown, meeting his eyes.

"After the Spaniard attacked you at the ship. I said you and Anne would be friends by the end of the month."

Scoffing, she lets her head rest on his chest again.

"We are not friends. She thinks I'm unbearable, and we will  _never_  get along."

"You used to say the exact same thing about Jack and nowadays, you two are inseparable."

"It's different."

His arms tighten around her and she can't help but smile.

"Of course it is."

Silence stretches for a while and she remembers what Max said about Davina.

"I need to talk to you, about something very important. It's about your sister." She has his full attention immediately, concern flickering in his eyes when she looks up at his face. "Max thinks that... Davina will grow up to be gay. Or maybe bi. And I know she could be wrong, but... She always guesses right."

Charles exhales deeply. She scowls at that.

"You seem relieved."

"With the way you sounded, I thought you were gonna tell me she had some sort of disease."

Her heart instantly feels a lot lighter. "So you don't mind?"

He shrugs, his fingers rubbing soothing circles on her back through the nightgown.

"The woman I love is bi. The woman who's been my protégée for two decades now is bi. It's only poetic that my sister turns out the same way."

Her eyes glint, a slow smile coming to her lips.

_His three girls..._

The conversation about Davina's possible sexual orientation is over just like that, and Eleanor feels stupid for her previous worries about how he would react.

She should have known better.

Enveloped in his embrace and that cocoon of warmth, she moves to kiss his lips.

It's slow, thorough and calm.

It's  _perfect_.

And she narrows her eyes at him when they pull away. "I do have to admit... I missed the cigarettes on your breath. But if I catch you smoking while you're still recovering, I swear I'll put you back in that coma."

Eyes locked with hers, he chuckles. "I'd love to see you try."

"I almost forgot... We can relax for now. Your uncle is in Madagascar as we speak."

Relief flashes in his eyes.

With a barely noticeable sigh, Charles claims her lips again.

For the first time in forever, she feels completely safe and serene.


	28. My Mother

She always loved to watch him like this.

His peaceful face, his chest rising and falling slowly as he slept.

The medicine he's been taking for the pain makes him sleep like a stone, and he doesn't wake up even as she removes his arm from around her waist. She's not sure how much time she has already spent gazing at his face, but there's stuff she needs to take care of.

Her lips linger on his birthmark and then she regretfully gets to her feet.

Eleanor is careful not to make too much noise while getting ready for the day, not wanting to disturb his peace. Just as she's braiding her hair, someone knocks on the door. Glancing over at the bed and making sure Charles was still asleep, she sighs.

Flint's serious face greets her when she opens the door, and she's quick to leave the room.

"How is he?"

She has to smile.

"Getting better and better. Definitely out of danger by now. He will survive, and the doctors said there will probably be no permanent damage... apart from a nasty scar, of course."

He nods, walking at her side as she heads to the waiting room. "I told you he would fight. And win. How are you holding up? Dealing with everything on your own..."

He trails off when a familiar someone walks into the medical center.

With a half smile, Eleanor meets the crew member by the double doors. "Sorry, if you came here to see him, he's still asleep-"

"I've been doing as you requested." He cuts her off, and her smile falters as she notices how nervous he looks. "Keeping my ears open and paying attention to what Teach's men are saying... And I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but..."

He grimaces, and Eleanor shakes her head. "Keswick. Whatever it is, just tell me already."

He glances at Flint, then lowers his eyes. "It appears the king has been in contact with some of the men. I just overheard a conversation at the cafeteria. Even though he's still far away, he's been giving orders... Our ship's not allowed to leave.  _We_  are not allowed to leave. If we try, there will be violence."

Her jaw clenches and she glances over her shoulder in the direction of Charles' room.

Aware of Flint's eyes on her, she stalks over to the double doors and leaves the medical center.

As she walks the endless corridors of her enemy's kingdom, Eleanor can practically feel her blood boiling in her veins.

* * *

"I used to practice ballet."

That voice brings Billy back from his thoughts and his somber features soften when he looks from the window to the teenager sitting at the table.

Forcing a smile, he joins her. "Is that so?"

Abigail nods, and he sees it when she lowers her eyes briefly. "My father wanted me to do it. And I ended up liking it... But he never showed up to watch any of the recitals. It was always Eleanor. She was always there. Since I was 8, and she was 15. I kept dancing until I was 14. Then I wanted to focus on high school."

"I'm sure your grades were excellent."

Pride flickers in her eyes as she looks at his face again. "I was always ahead of the other kids. Just like Eleanor."

He can see how much this girl looks up to the blonde tyrant.

"It's funny... Ever since I can remember, she's been taking care of me. Even back when she was still just a child herself... But she was always so mature, you know? It's almost like she's always been an adult. She's just seven years older than me. And yet she's the closest thing I've ever had to a mother."

Frowning, Billy hesitates to ask the question that's been on his mind for two days now.

"What about your real mother?"

This sad little smile comes to her lips. "I... always say she's dead. I always think about her like that, but the truth is that I have no idea if that's the case. Because I don't know what happened to her. I have no memories of her, she... left when I was one year old. I used to have a nanny, one day I found her journal. I found out my father used to be violent towards my mom. She was in... a fragile mental state. She did drugs. And one day, she disappeared. And at first, she took me with her. But the police found me inside a car a few streets away from the mansion. My mom, however... She just vanished. No one knows what happened to her, where she went. The authorities searched for her for years on end... But there was no sign of her and they eventually gave up. So that's why I always think of her as deceased... Eleanor says I do that to defend myself."

Abigail scowls softly when she finishes. Why did she tell him all that? She always ignored this story, she always tried to lock it all away.

She can't believe how  _good_  it felt to let it all out, finally. It's like a huge weight has been lifted from her shoulders.

"Sorry to hear that. And something tells me that your father wasn't the best either, right?"

The teen scoffs, shaking her head. "There were times he would travel... and come back months later. Sometimes I would spend three to four months without hearing from him. He would leave the country with Eleanor's dad. Now I know why they used to do that every year." Disgust fills her eyes. "He never showed up at my ballet recitals. He never took me to the doctor when I got sick. Or to school. He wasn't around for most of my birthday parties."

"So basically, what you're saying is that your father never gave a damn about you."

Abigail lowers her head. Her brief nod makes his heart clench so painfully.

For a few moments, he doesn't know what to say.

It feels like the most natural thing in the world when his hand moves to hers on its own accord. She quickly meets his eyes again and the corners of his lips twitch up as he gives her hand a soft squeeze.

"Well, it's  _his_  loss."

The blush that comes to her cheeks is the most adorable thing and she smiles at him, that beautiful glint returning to her sad eyes.

Neither of them makes any move to retreat their hands.

Until the front door opens violently and a pissed off blonde walks in.

Since the hall is connected with the kitchen, Eleanor looks at the table just in time to see them let go of each other's hands, and her eyes narrow.

"May we have a word? In  _private_."

Her tone is dry, leaving no room for argument, and Billy resists the urge of rolling his eyes before getting to his feet.

In a matter of seconds they find themselves alone outside the house. The look on Eleanor's face could be enough to make grown men scared for their lives.

"You better listen to me very carefully, because I am going to say this only  _once_. That girl-" She points to the door, eyes trained on his face. "Is a naïve bag of innocence, and if I even  _suspect_  you're trying to take advantage of her,  _you_  will be the one with the noose around your neck, before you can even say ' _oh shit_ '. Is that clear, or do I have to write it down for you?"

His eyebrows raise, but he knows better than to antagonize this woman.

"Crystal clear."

"Wonderful."

Her eyes still hold a warning.

* * *

Abigail looks up at her nervously when she walks inside the house again. Her face is serious as she comes to stand in front of the table.

But then the stern look falters a little and Eleanor sighs. "What you did was extremely stupid and I am still angry with you. But..."

The teen's eyes glint with hope and she gets up from her chair, staring at her role model expectantly.

"...you were also very smart and brave. And for that, I am so proud of you."

With a bright smile, Abigail closes the distance between them.

It takes Eleanor a couple of seconds to return the hug, but in the end she awkwardly does so. It still feels strange to share this sort of physical contact with anyone but Charles and maybe Max.

Speaking of her, they suddenly hear footsteps making their way down the stairs and Eleanor lets go of the teenage girl.

"Morning." Mary greets them, clearly fresh out of the shower. Max is right behind her, her smile contrasting with the fading bruises on her face.

Even though it's not the first time Eleanor sees them, her heart still breaks all over again, that huge sense of guilt taking her over.

"Morning... Where's Davina?" She asks, eager for that magical presence that never fails to make everything happier.

She could use a distraction to take her mind off of what her ex-lover and Idelle went through thanks to her stupidity.

"Looking for something to wear... She refused our help. Let's just hope for the best."

Mary chuckles at Max's words. Eleanor notices she's not even acknowledging Abigail's presence.

"Indeed. Is that idiot awake yet, blondie? His sister really wants to see him."

"He was sleeping like a stone when I left him... Just a minute, let me check..."

As soon as she retrieves her phone from the pocket of her jeans, she sees the message.

_Where are you?_

The corners of her lips twitch up.

He can never go too long without her.

"Yeah. Now he's awake." She can't fight away her stupid little half smile while replying to his text. "I can take Davina there after she eats."

"I'll go with you. There's a certain someone I would like to see too." Max tells her with a smirk and she rolls her eyes playfully before noticing the confused look on Abigail's face.

"Then it's true. You are in a serious relationship...  _You_." Her tone is dripping with disbelief.

"You could say that. It's a really long sto-"

"It's that criminal, isn't it? The one who took you from the party all those months ago, the one Mr. Rogers tried so hard to find. You told me you had stopped seeing that man, you said he was dangerous..."

With a heavy sigh, Eleanor walls closer to her again.

"And he is. Very dangerous. That's actually the reason why I won't take you anywhere near him. Because he's unpredictable and tends to react with violence sometimes... But not with me. Never with me. He would never be able to hurt me, at least not physically, so you don't have to worry about that, alright?"

Abigail seems hesitant to believe her words. But she could never doubt her role model for too long.

"While we wait for Davina..." She shares a look with Billy, then focuses her attention on Mary. "...there's something we should discuss. About that place I mentioned."

Billy actually scoffs at that. "About damn time."

Eleanor watches in silent suspicion while he offers Abigail a gentle smile, assuring her he would be back soon before going up the stairs.

She does  _not_  like the way this grown men looks at her innocent little girl, that's for certain.

* * *

"Doctor told Jack you should be ok to leave the medical center in a couple of weeks at most."

Charles shakes his head at his protégée's words, letting her help him to walk the corridor.

And the waiting room.

He had no patience to wait for Eleanor, and while he would prefer her, Anne has been walking with him for more than  _20 minutes_.

And just as he suspected, he's handling the long walk just fine. He knew that stupid 10 minute rule was completely useless.

"There's no way we'll wait for so long. We can't push our luck. The Revenge is large and slow, I've sailed with my uncle once. I'd say it would take him about six to seven days to sail from Madagascar to Somalia, while our own ship has made it in three days. We're not staying any longer than that. I can't take that risk. I want the crew here tonight, so I can tell them to start preparing everything for our departure."

He can feel that Anne agrees with that plan wholeheartedly, and she chuckles.

"What about your dear tyrant? What will she say about that?"

"Survival is her top priority, and I will make her see that the sooner we leave, the better. I can finish my recovery at the ship, during our journey, and she can keep the crew in line. Unless there's bad weather, in that case you have permission to knock her out and lock her down in the cabin with me, then take the reins of the situation."

A half smirk plays on Anne's lips and her eyes glow. "Never thought I'd pray for bad weather to come."

He can't help but chuckle briefly at those words, and the redhead stops them on their walk when Jack comes in through the double doors.

His features are somber and Anne's smirk falls. Both her and Charles were expecting him to scold them for the extra long walk, but it seems that's the last concern on his mind right now.

_This can't be good._

"I just got back from the harbor." He announces, watching while Anne helps her mentor to one of the couches. The two brutes stare at his face expectantly and he shakes his head. "You are  _not_  going to like this."

* * *

"You said you'd be back in two hours to tell me more about that place. Well, you came back in two days."

Eleanor glares daggers at Billy as he leans against the door.

They're gathered at the guest room, hoping Davina will simply go downstairs to play with Abigail once she's finished getting ready for the day, instead of interrupting their little meeting or eavesdropping on their discussion.

Mary has yet to tell her she will need to be away from her big brother again, and they all know the little girl will not react too well once she learns about that.

Deciding to ignore Billy's previous words (of course she can't let them all know that the reason she failed to come back sooner was because she decided to snuggle with Charles under the blankets), she meets Mary's eyes.

"I spoke to my father the other day." Eleanor doesn't fail to notice that Max looks over at her immediately. Her concern is palpable, but she pays her ex-lover no mind. "We have a château in the Bavarian Alps. I told him he has no permission to visit that place until further notice, so it should be safe enough. When do you plan on leaving?"

"The question's not when, it's  _how_."

Billy says, and the three women look over at him. He shakes his head at Mary. "We don't have the money to pay for four plane tickets... And even if we had, I assume there is no airport right next to the château, so that's another problem, would we have to walk all the way-"

"There is no airport, but my father insisted on building an heliport right behind it."

It seemed so useless to her at the time, but now Eleanor can't help but be grateful for that man and his petty wishes.

Letting out a dry, sarcastic laugh, Billy shrugs. "Oh, so now all we need is an helicopter, that should be easy to find-"

" _Flint_  happens to have an helicopter." Eleanor says with cruel glint in her eyes, and he clenches his jaw immediately.

But before he can protest, Mary speaks up. "I don't know why you feel such hatred for a man you've just met, this isn't like you and you have changed so drastically since Flint showed up here. I don't give a damn about this ridiculous little grudge that's been born for no apparent reason, all I know is that I want to get Davina away from this godforsaken place, so you have two options. You and your new friend will either get on that helicopter with me and my daughter, or you'll both stay here and deal with Teach's wrath when he comes back. It's your choice. I don't want my child to grow up in this place anymore, I'm seeing a chance to give her a better life... And I will grasp it tightly with both hands, with or without you."

Silence hangs heavy in the air for a few moments. The dark look on Billy's face softens when they hear Davina's voice as she makes her way down the stairs, telling Abigail all about some dream she had involving boats and two giant, purple squids.

Eleanor can see the partially veiled relief in Mary's eyes as her cousin gives her a brief nod.

"So when will you be leaving? So I can talk to Flint about the helicopter."

"I think we should all leave at the same time. Might make the separation easier for Charles and Davina."

Scowling as Mary's words remind her of what she has learned earlier, Eleanor shakes her head. "I think you should leave before that. When we leave... Things might get messy. And I don't want Davina around to see that."

"What do you mean by that?"

Her previous anger returns and she clenches her jaw as Max suddenly walks away from her to stare out the window.

"Our most trusted crew member has brought my attention to a particular problem this morning after I left Charles. Rumor has it, Teach's men won't let us go without a fight. It seems they have strict orders to keep us in here, but I don't know if that's true or simply gossip among the pirates-"

" _Eleanor_."

The three people look at Max when she speaks. Her eyes are glued in the direction of the covered harbor. She's unmoving, and the blonde can't help but feel antsy as she makes her way over to the window too.

The tone her ex-lover used has sent a very unpleasant shiver down her spine...

"What's wrong?"

Eleanor barely registers Mary's question.

Her eyes burn with pure hatred, and frustration spreads inside her like fire as she stares at the covered harbor where their beloved Ranger was.

There's another ship guarding it, and blocking their way to the freedom and safety of the open sea.

* * *

That heavy hand rests protectively on top of her thigh as Eleanor sits by his side on the hospital bed.

The room is crowded with all of their men, Mary, Max, Anne and Jack gathered around the bed as the crew remains close to the walls.

"Those of you who disagree with our plans and wish to remain in Somalia as part of my uncle's crew, leave this room now and don't come back. And be sure to keep silent. Remember that dead men tell no tales."

It's the moment of truth.

And Eleanor's heart sinks when 14 of their 22 men quietly walk out the door, one by one.

Her eyes meet Charles'.

It was much worse than they thought.

Anne makes a move to go after the departing men but her mentor stops her with a simple gesture of his hand.

Silence reigns for a few moments after that as they let that simple thought sink in.

_They're completely fucked._

The remaining eight men stare at their leader expectantly until he finally speaks up.

"I want  _all_  of you to keep an eye on them. If anyone says a word about our escape plans, make sure to let me and Anne know." He meets the redhead's eyes with a brief clench of his jaw. "You'll know what to do."

She nods immediately and he dismisses the men, telling them to come back tomorrow so he could reveal the last few details to them. As they walk out of the room, Flint finally joins them too, his eyes lingering on their now small crew.

Only Keswick stays behind, as Charles requested. And even if his eyes are filled with exhaustion, he still seems to be in full alert mode.

"There's at least 18 men on that ship guarding the harbor. There could be more. We are in 13 people, that assuming we can count on him-" He gestures towards Flint, who was still standing by the door with an unreadable look on his face. "Just how are we going to do this?"

"We wait until Davina is safe and away from here... That bastard wants war, then  _war_  he shall have." Eleanor begins, and they all notice her stiff posture, that familiar cruel, determined glint in her eyes. "I don't fucking care if we have to  _burn_  this place down. It's very clear the men at the headquarters won't let us leave unless we give them a distraction, more pressing matters that need their prompt and full attention while we escape."

"And what about the vessel blocking the way out of the harbor?" Flint inquiries with a somewhat bored look on his face and she falls silent, looking at Charles face.

Her eyes silently beg him to come up with something, something that could give her hope of leaving this place with him safe and sound,  _unharmed_.

And from the moment Jack came to tell him and Anne about that damn ship hours ago, there's been only one thought on his mind.

His eyes remain locked with his queen's as he speaks in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear... But his words are directed at  _her_.

"Let's do the same thing my uncle and I did to you and the governor three centuries ago."

There's no evidence of regret or even hesitation in his tone, and for a second Eleanor just frowns in confusion.

But then she realizes what he meant by that... And her heart fills with grief as she shakes her head.

"You want to set the Ranger on  _fire_?"

"Hell,  _no_." He's quick to say it, and she can't help but sigh deeply in relief. "You probably didn't notice, but there was a small wooden vessel in that harbor too. It's my uncle's. Let's just hope it's still there."

"I'll go check in the morning." Anne offers, leaving her seat on the edge of the bed.

"Alright, it's late... Make him get some sleep." Jack tells Eleanor, forcing a half smile, and she responds the same way. "Is there anything you two need? Charles?"

Tired of being treated like a dying patient, he rolls his eyes at his best friend.

" _No_. You?"

His rough voice doesn't intimidate Jack in the slightest and Max chuckles, raising an eyebrow. "Aside from some dignity?"

After throwing her a playful glare, he looks at Charles and Eleanor, gesturing towards Max dramatically.

"Don't you two want her? You can have her." Anne actually smiles brightly, elbowing him in the ribs. "Seriously, for one weekend, feel free to borrow her."

"Could  _definitely_  be arranged, but..." Max pauses, trying not to smirk too much while nodding once at Charles. "That one doesn't share."

Flint rolls his eyes at their conversation before wordlessly leaving the room. Mary takes that as her cue to tell them a quick goodnight, since she had to go home and tuck Davina into bed.

"Neither do I." Anne finally grumbles when it's just the five of them in the room, and Eleanor can't stop herself from chuckling. Subconsciously, she moves closer to her criminal on the bed.

Jack watches as the girls walk out the door before looking at the couple with a raised eyebrow and a teasing, wicked little smirk.

"Have a beautiful night... my favorite pair of lovey-doveys."

He leaves the room just as Charles reaches for one of his boots and throws it his way. If it wasn't for the door closing right then, it would have actually hit him.

His fading laughter fills their ears, and Eleanor's smirk vanishes along with the sound.

Now that the brief moment of amusement is over, she meets Charles' eyes apprehensively.

"Do you really think we can do this? You think it'll work?"

Much to her dismay, he shrugs.

"I don't know."

Lowering her eyes, she lets out a shuddering breath, her eyebrows furrowing together. Charles reaches for her face, tilting her chin up and making her look at him again.

"One way or another, I'll get you out of here. I'll get you to safety... Do you believe me?"

He sounds exactly as he did three hundred years ago, and the oh so familiar question makes her heart skip a beat.

This time, she speaks before kissing him.

"Yes. Now, I do." His sincere smile brings some light to her world and she meets him halfway, holding his face with both hands as their lips met.

For some miracle, they are able to keep things calm and soft, and once they part for air, she strokes his cheekbones with her thumbs lovingly, nodding at him with a beautiful, confident and devoted glint in her eyes. "I do believe you."

_With my whole heart._

* * *

_**Nassau, Bahamas** _

_**13 years ago** _

_It's the first time she experiences cold in this place._

_All she wants is a jacket. A roof over her head._

_She remembers the time when she used to live in a big mansion. It feels like another life._

_Her little girl is probably around five years old today._

_Abigail..._

_A slightly crazed chuckle leaves her lips, her teeth chattering. Nowadays, she can't even remember what her daughter's face looked like, and it doesn't even bother her..._

_Peter was probably right every time he said she was completely crazy._

_But she can't connect with that life anymore. It simply feels so distant, and she's a different person now._

_Four years ago, she left the safety of the Ashe Mansion to flee the US with a couple she had met a few days prior. They warned her not to take the baby with her, but she did anyway. And the man, the man threatened to dig his knife into the little girl's guts unless she abandoned her in a car..._

_So she did it. With no regrets._

_They spent months traveling... They were criminals, that she knew. And there are so many holes in her memory... So many gaps..._

_She remembers they ended up dumping her in this island a few months ago and she's been surviving in the streets since then..._

_Are her calculations even correct? Maybe it's been years, not just months..._

_She suddenly wants to make sure..._

_"Good sir..." She laughs when the leather clad man jumps slightly. He's big and strong and she startled him, when she emerged from the shadows of the palm trees. "...what year is it, tell me."_

_He narrows his eyes, inspecting her from head to toe. Then he scoffs in clear contempt._

_"It's 2004." He's studying her, probably making sure she's not armed. She notices his thick accent... "What in the world has happened to you?"_

_She shrugs, gesturing with her hands and speaking in a slurred voice. "I don't know."_

_He's inspecting her torn clothes, she knows she's skin and bones right now, and even though she's always been considered a beauty, pale with dark hair and soulful chocolate eyes, she knows she probably looks like crap, after spending so long bathing only in the ocean and surviving off food she found in dumpsters._

_"Do you know what your name is?"_

_Does she?_

_She just remembers her husband's name and surname, and her daughter's, but hers..._

_"I will need to remember."_

_"Did you hit your head or something like that?"_

_Yeah, she does recall something like that... That must be the reason why all her memories about the years she spent with that couple are messy, blurry._

_But her name, it's... Victoria, isn't it?_

_"I'm Victoria Ashe. And I'm lost." She announces suddenly, and the strange man takes a look around._

_"I can try and find your family-"_

_"No. Not them, I don't want them."_

_Her reaction was so strong that he didn't try to press matters any further._

_She watches as he lowers his eyes to the sand, thinking..._

_"Would you like to come home with me?" He suddenly offers, tilting his head to the side slightly. "You look like you could use some shelter from the cold. Some food too, and maybe even some alcohol."_

_Yeah, she liked this man._

_That's why she laughs, accepting his offered arm._

_She knows he could have shady intentions._

_She honestly doesn't care._

_"What's your name?"_

_He stiffens briefly as they walk._

_"Lorenzo... Kournikov."_

_He has a beautiful name, she decides. That makes her trust him._

_Victoria thought she'd just spend the night... Little did she know that under this man's care, her mental state would get a little better... And she would soon find herself with another little girl in her arms._

_A little girl with her father's dark hair and also his deep, sea blue eyes._

_A beautiful, spirited infant they would name Davina Sierra._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun Dun Duuun.
> 
> I admit that this wasn't planned... Even I was surprised. But something just told me to go ahead and do it. I figured things will get... Interesting when jealous Charles finds out his little girl has another half sibling... Especially considering who that half sibling is.
> 
> Damn, I'm so evil to my poor baby sometimes.
> 
> And I actually almost feel sorry for the horrible life I gave Abbie's mom... Poor crazy woman, may she rest in peace.


	29. Head Over Heels

He always thought his favorite way to wake up was opening his eyes to the wooden ceiling of his cabin, with his queen snuggled safely against his side, the sound of the waves filling his ears while the ocean gently cradled his ship.

Charles is really starting to question that.

Something disturbed his sleep minutes ago, in the _best way_   _possible_. The feeling of soft, perfect lips trailing slow kisses and gentle bites over his birthmark, then down his chest, pulled him from slumber.

_Lips he's so very familiar with..._

It seems  _someone_  couldn't resist the temptation and ended up breaking her own rule.

Somehow he knew it was morning already, but since they're underground, there are no windows and the lights are off. The room is completely dark so he couldn't see her.

But damn, he could  _feel_  her.

She'd been a tease when he started to wake up, as usual, her hair tickling his skin as her lips lingered just below his bandages, kissing, nipping and biting, so damn close... And she wouldn't move lower.

But as soon as he was conscious enough, his hands flew to her hair and he forced her to do so. Although " _forced_ " probably wouldn't be the right word, considering how promptly she obeyed the silent, urgent order, completely willingly.

His barely open eyes fell closed again, and he breathed in sharply.

It's nice that she's been taking care of him and helping him recover, staying by his side and making sure he was alright... But fuck, how he  _missed_  this aspect of their relationship.

He feels as she runs her tongue up the thick vein on the underside of his cock, shifting as best as he can on the mattress. There's no pain, he's been getting better and better. By now he only feels the wound when he walks.

One of his fists closes around the sheets tightly, his free hand tangling in her hair, though he rarely needs to guide her. She swirls her tongue around the head; drawing a raspy,low moan from his lips. His hand tightens on her hair as she takes him in slowly, teeth barely dragging along his length before she begins bobbing up and down, opening her throat and taking him in deep.

He swears he can rise and knock on heaven's door whenever she does  _that_.

Even without using words, Eleanor has already made it very clear she's not stopping until she gets the result she wants.

And well, who is he to stop her?

She tightens her lips, pulling just the tip in and out of her mouth, her fingers flirting with the edges of the bandages, as if silently thanking him for what he did.

To him, this is worth so much more than any words of gratitude she might have said.

There's no denying that he always turns to putty in her hands whenever she does this to him. In these moments, he belongs solely to her, body and soul... and he truly doesn't give a fuck. He's not even embarrassed to admit that to himself.

His jaw clenches as she continues her assault on him, her throat muscles opening again to receive him better while she expertly breathed from her nose only.

Its doesn't take too long.

Spending almost three weeks without her touch has taken its toll on him.

Incoherent moans and choked gasps leave his lips, his hips bucking off the bed slowly at first, the movements growing more and more ferocious and urgent with each passing second. There's the slightest twinge of pain from the wound but he barely even acknowledges it.

He prefers to focus on the feeling of his queen smirking around him, cupping his balls and massaging them softly.

His mouth parts, several praises of her name tumbling from his lips. He does try to warn her, but she refuses to pull away.

His chest heaves as she milks him dry.

Trying to get his breathing under control, Charles reaches for the bedside table lamp she had brought from the ship days ago.

The faint glow of it finally lets him see her, she's standing on her knees beside him on the mattress, the most beautiful smile playing on her lips as she brings one hand to rest over the bandages tenderly.

He sees the hint of concern in her eyes.

"Okay?"

His only reply is a brief nod. Her smile widens.

For a few moments they just stare at each other, her hand still on his bandages, resting over it lightly as not to hurt him.

He's sure she sees the feral glow in his eyes when he reaches for her.

His hands go to the back of her thighs, pulling, forcing her to move closer, until she was close to his face. She frowns for only a second before realizing his intentions, her eyes widening a bit as he pulled one of her legs over his body so she was practically straddling his chest.

She's about to protest and say this isn't necessary, but he squeezes both her thighs in a silent warning.

She knows better than to deny him what he wants.

It's the exact same thing she's longing for, after all.

So Eleanor gives in, placing her knees on either side of his head and lowering herself down on his face.

_Thank God she sleeps with no underwear beneath her short nightgown..._

His mouth immediately latches on to her clit and he gives it a hard, eager suck. She throws her head back, eyes squeezing shut, one hand grasping at the hair on the top of his head while the other held on tight to the headboard.

It's been so long since the last time someone did this to her, she remembers Max used to love it, and she'd forgotten just how  _amazing_  it felt.

Just why the hell didn't she ask him to do this before? Is the last thing she mentally asks herself before all coherent thoughts simply vanish from her brain, his tongue pressing in, dipping inside and circling around her walls, occasionally coming back to her clit.

She's a moaning mess in no time, completely uncaring about all the nurses and doctors who could be walking the corridor and hearing her, her pleasure growing stronger and stronger, those obscene noises that came from him sending her closer and closer to the edge. His fingers hold her thighs tight enough to leave bruises and that only fuels the fire. Pearls of sweat start to bead her forehead as she rides his mouth.

And she thought she'd have to fake it just this once, she actually thought his current condition would affect his talent to turn her into a quivering mess...

_She's such a fool._

His hands squeeze her thighs, her ass, her waist, before finally coming up to settle on her breasts, tongue lapping at her nonstop as if she was quenching his thirst...

And maybe she was.

The sensations when she feels him grab her hips and rock her against his lips and tongue are too much, the delicious friction sending her flying over the edge, moans of his name leaving her throat over and over again until she finally goes still.

After taking a deep breath, she moves away, making sure she didn't hurt him. His eyes follow her every move, this stupid, little half smirk on his lips.

She just wants to kiss it away.

And that's exactly what she does.

Moments later, when she's nestled against his side again, his fingertips trailing patterns on her thigh, she can't fight away the lovestruck smile plastered to her face.

She doesn't want to, in truth.

"I think..." Charles begins, splaying his hand over her skin while his thumb continued to stroke it gently. "...that I am head over heels in love with you."

At those words, she scoffs out loud, meeting his eyes. Her smile doesn't falter for a second. "Tell me something I don't know... Better yet, something the entire Island didn't know three centuries ago."

Rolling his eyes, he pulls her impossibly closer. "You're exaggerating."

Eleanor chuckles, raising her eyebrows at him. "You killed anyone who threatened or mistreated me. Or do you think the only reason no man dared to come near me was because of whose daughter I was?"

He shrugs, clearly defeated, and she brings her right hand to his face. Her index finger trails over his lips and she sighs.

"How can you still be so good at that, even after a near-death experience?" She whispers quietly, mostly to herself. "I missed it  _so_  much... During my married time."

He frowns in confusion, but quickly realizes what she meant by that. His eyes cloud with irritation.

Not towards her this time, thankfully.

"You're  _kidding_  me."

"Wish I was." The sad glint in her eyes  _kills_  him all over again. "Woodes wasn't much for foreplay, I think... And the one time I asked him for this, he seemed... Somewhat repulsed, actually."

The irritation in his eyes turns to anger and indignation.

Grabbing her hand and pressing a kiss to her fingertips, he shakes his head in contempt.

"Then the fucking idiot didn't know what he was missing."

For some reason, those words bring that bright smile back to her lips.

"So..." She finally speaks after a good 20 minutes of soft, gentle caresses and silence. "I need to go to Mary's. To ask about that place she mentioned. I think we should start preparing the details about our escape as soon as possible, and that includes figuring out where we're going after leaving here. If what we're planning works, Teach will be completely livid. I trust you understand we'll need to vanish for some time."

He nods, eyes glued to hers.

"You don't have to leave."

The corners of her lips twitch up.

"Are you sure you want me to call Mary and tell her to come here? She always teases you about your bedridden state."

"Dealing with Mary has been a walk in the park lately. Compared to everything she would make me do back when we were lovers..."

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Charles regrets them.

Just as he feared, Eleanor's interest is piqued and she tilts her head to the side briefly, narrowing her eyes.

"Enlighten me."

More like " _tell me now or I'll torture the answers out of you and it won't be in a pleasant manner_."

Well, he dug his own grave.

Sighing heavily, Charles decides to just spit it out already.

"Let's just say that despite her tough façade, that one actually has a certain addiction... romantic movies. And she didn't like to watch them  _alone_."

He almost regrets his confession.

But then her delicious laughter fills the room and he can't stop himself from smiling wide at the sound.

* * *

"Abbie..." Smiling at the sweet voice, Abigail meets the child's eyes, that adorable pout to her lips letting her know she was going to request something. "Can we play more? Please?"

Reaching to brush some stray dark hair behind her ear, the teen nods. "Just a little bit, alright? Mary said she wanted you bathed and fed when she came back."

"Dinosaurs don't need baths!" She exclaims with a bright smile, the missing tooth only seeming to make her even more adorable. Then her eyes widen as if she just remembered something. "My shells, I never showed them to you! Cousin Billy dives really really deep to get them for me and they're beautiful, come on!"

The little ball of energy takes off running, and a stern look comes to Billy's face briefly. He has been watching the scene from an armchair nearby, and upon hearing the sounds of Davina's footsteps as she clearly runs up the stairs, he looks like he will scold her.

If he was Mary, he'd be yelling at her already.

But in the end he just shakes his head, chuckling briefly while his eyes filled with affection.

"Do you think you can get her into the bathtub?" He asks while Abigail gets to her feet. She's quick to grimace.

"I'm not certain... She wouldn't listen to me, I'm not good with children, I don't know how to be stern."

"Being stern is not the only way to make them obey. And as for the ' _I'm not good with children_ ' part, I beg to differ. Davina never gets attached to people so quickly. And she's crazy about you already, it's been only a few days... The last time she developed such a quick bond with someone was..."

Tilting her head to the side, Abigail frowns softly, silently encouraging him to keep talking.

With a sigh, Billy offers her a half smile. "...when she met her big brother."

* * *

"You two seem considerably less tense today... What happened?" Mary asks with a raised eyebrow shortly after walking through the door.

Charles just keeps staring at her while the corners of Eleanor's lips twitch up. Seeing this, the older woman laughs, shaking her head.

"Okay, just as I suspected, I probably do  _not_  want to know the answer to that question, right?"

"While I was still in the coma..." Charles begins, ignoring her jokes. "...you talked to Eleanor about a mysterious place, somewhere she could go to escape my uncle's wrath. Does such a safe haven really exist?"

All signs of playfulness quickly fade away from her face and she becomes serious, nodding at him.

When she speaks again, her voice is much quieter.

"There is a place... hidden from the rest of the world. No one knows how to get there, but maybe you two will be lucky. It's a secret paradise island, all we know is the name people use to refer to it, and that it's located somewhere near Thailand, but many have tried to find it with no success. Teach's rules strictly forbid us from talking about that place or even mentioning its name, so... Please keep this silent."

The couple stares at her expectantly and she sighs heavily, hesitating for a few seconds before shrugging.

"If there's anywhere Eleanor will be safe, it's there."

They share a look. Of course, the promise of a safe haven for his queen is more than enough to pique Charles' interest instantly. "What is this place's name?"

Mary looks over her shoulder at the closed door for a moment. Her voice is even more hushed when she leans closer to them and speaks again.

"Shih Island."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the short chapter, guys! I just needed to write some steamy moments for them, it's been so long, poor babies. Theydeserved it lol Also wanted to show some Davina/Abigail bonding, and the beginnings of the whole island arc. And look, I'm updating really early today! But only because I leave for a camping trip in a couple of hours, and I'd hate to leave you hanging like I did last saturday XD Hope you enjoyed this one, even if it's so short. Next one will be much longer, with a lot more happening ;)


	30. Tears of an Angel

"Why can't I just stay with you, Eleanor?"

She tries hard not to lose her patience with the teenage girl staring at her from the couch. Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, Eleanor shakes her head.

"Look, you're old enough to deal with this... To understand. But don't mention it to Davina, please. There's someone out there who wants my head. Things might get dangerous, and that's why I'm sending you and Charles' sister away."

She gestures for Abigail to get up and the girl obeys, following her to one of the windows. They can see Flint standing guard near the safe house, staring at the ocean.

"You see that man?" Abigail nods, frowning softly while her role model talks. "Well, you will see much more of him in the near future. He has much money and influence, and he has agreed to help you with your emancipation. You can trust him completely, okay?"

"I guess..." She sounds hesitant, sad, and Eleanor can also hear the hint of fear in her voice.

"You are going to be just fine, alright? I promise. Running away from home and traveling to another continent has its consequences... And you're old enough to deal with that."

Her voice holds the slightest bit of harshness, a warning Abigail knows far too well by now.

_Don't argue with me, because **I**  am the one holding the reins of this situation._

So the teen doesn't even dare to try. But she can see the way her eyes fill with worry.

"So there is a chance that... I will never see you again? If this enemy of yours finds you..."

"Don't you worry about me. Charles and I know exactly what we're doing, we still have eight loyal men, we have plans and we have the strength to fight back. We'll be okay.

Just then, a message arrives on her phone, the screen lighting up.

Her lock screen is one of her guilty pleasures.

Back when they were traveling to Somalia, there was a particularly hot afternoon. That day, Charles didn't even bother putting on a shirt before leaving their cabin in the morning.

He spent the whole day shirtless, his muscles on full display, and at a given moment she was simply unable to resist.

He was at the helm, firm, tanned skin glinting with a thin layer of sweat, and she was sitting on a barrel nearby.

It was as if her arm and hand had moved on their own accord, and when Eleanor realized it, she had already taken a picture. He didn't notice at the time, but a few days later she woke up to find him staring at her with a very satisfied smirk on his face.

And her phone in his hand.

So what, the picture was perfect, who can blame her for customizing her phone's lock screen with it? It's not like she did that out of silly devotion like some stupid high schooler with her boyfriend's photo, it simply feels nice to look at those perfect muscles whenever she types in her password... But she will change that damn screen. She  _has_  to.

And she's been telling herself that exact same thing for two months now.

There's a reason why Eleanor never lets anyone see her phone. But Abigail was faster this time, and she watches as the teen's eyes widen just a little bit.

"He scares me..." Is her simple statement, and Eleanor has to scoff.

"Of course he scares you, it's only natural..."

"What?" Abigail asks in confusion and the older woman rubs her forehead with a sigh, mentally kicking herself.

"Nothing. I need to go back now. Rest well, take care of yourself and try not to panic. I will be here to say goodbye to you tomorrow morning, before you guys leave."

She gives Abigail no time to reply, not wanting to see the tears that would surely glint in the teen's eyes.

She has no patience to deal with all this right now... And the drama that certainly awaits her back at the medical center is already enough.

* * *

As soon as she reaches the door to Charles' room, Eleanor can hear the sobs. She wasn't expecting this to go any differently, but a grimace comes to her face anyway.

Charles had to deal with this alone the first time, but now they will need to do it together... And she is  _not_  looking forward to that.

_Oh well, here we go._

Gathering her courage and raising her chin, Eleanor opens the door without knocking and unceremoniously walks into the room.

The sight she's greeted with makes her heart break.

Davina nearly disappears in his embrace, her small, delicate body contrasting with his tall, muscular form.

Their hair mix together and the only difference is the texture, Charles' strands are nowhere near as soft as his little sister's.

_The poor little angel can't stop sobbing..._

Davina doesn't notice her arrival, but Charles looks up at her and his eyes immediately fill with relief.

Little does he know, she's just as terrified and clueless as he is.

"I don't g-get it, Charlie..." The child sobs violently for a couple of seconds, then continues to speak. "You s-said you were going to protect m-me."

"And that's exactly what I'm doing, kid. Staying near me won't always be the best thing for you."

"But it is! You're m-my big b-brother and you saved Eleanor, you c-can protect me t-too."

He swallows hard, shaking his head.

"Davy, I saw so much violence when I was your age, and this isn't the way children are supposed to grow up. This isn't the way I want  _you_  to grow up. I want to give you your best chance and in order to do so, I need to send you away. You'll like it there. There's snow, you could play and build a snowman..."

Her sobs quiet down a little.

"Like Olaf?"

He frowns in confusion, meeting Eleanor's eyes again in a silent request for help. A barely audible chuckle leaves her lips and she finally leaves her spot by the door.

"That's right, just like Olaf. Maybe you will even see Elsa, I heard she likes to visit that place sometimes."

Charles is staring at her as if she just grew a second head, but she pays him no mind. Davina's eyes stay locked with hers as she reaches the bed, forcing a smile for the child's sake.

Sniffling quietly, the little girl nods, seeming to be considering the pros and cons about leaving to the château now.

"I like Elsa." She finally says, and Eleanor wipes away the fresh tear that rolls down her cheek. "But I wanted to have a snowball fight with you and Charlie."

"And you will, sweetheart. I promise we will go and visit you as soon as we can. Then we can build an Olaf together and your brother can tell us some horror stories at night while we have some hot chocolate in front of the fireplace, how does that sound?"

She hesitates for a few moments.

The nod of her head is weak, but it already makes both adults sigh softly in relief.

"Which reminds me... I have something for you, sweetie."

Davina's eyes light up at the words, even though they're still filled with tears.

"A gift?"

Eleanor hums, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a necklace. Charles frowns, staring at the unfamiliar object in silence. It's the first time he sees it.

The delicate string is clearly made of gold, and there's a pendant shaped as a seashell... One of his eyebrows raise when he notices it's not just some ordinary pendant. It's a locket.

And when Eleanor opens it, what is his surprise to see what's inside.

A small picture, his sister beaming up at him while he stared at her with a half smirk, his hand on the top of her head. He had probably just ruffled her hair when the picture was taken.

"Now you can always have your brother with you, little one."

He swallows the lump that has formed in his throat, telling himself that the brief burning sensation in his eyes has absolutely nothing to do with tears.

It only lasts for a split second anyway, and he already has his emotions under control when Davina throws her arms around Eleanor's neck, thanking her over and over again.

Blue-green eyes meet his as his queen's cradles the back of his sister's head protectively. Her smile has vanished and he lets out a heavy sigh before moving so he could embrace them both.

Normally, he probably wouldn't do such a thing.

But he simply couldn't miss the opportunity to hold the two most important people of his world in his arms, to feel them, to know that they're safe, right here next to him. God only knows when he'll get the chance to do this again.

So he better cherish every second of it.

* * *

"When exactly did you get that?" Charles asks when his queen comes back from the safe house. She just went there to return Davina to Mary, and it's only the two of them in the room now.

"The necklace, or the picture?"

"Both."

There's silence, then she lets out a heavy sigh and site on the edge of the bed, reaching to take her boots off.

"Just before we left Nassau. I figured it might be useful. In case things went south and something like this happened." She shakes her head. One of her hands comes to rest on his chest, her fingers grasping his own necklace. "As for the picture... I took it from afar with my phone, back at that ranch Idelle rented. Seeing you with a child, I simply couldn't resist. I was drunk, and I almost deleted that picture more times than I can count. But I'm so glad I didn't."

The corners of his lips twitch up.

He remembers that night. And he didn't even notice she took a picture of him and Davina back then.

His sneaky queen.

He still remembers as if it all happened just yesterday. How they spent the whole night teasing each other, then he found her in the pool later, trembling from the cold, her lips already starting to turn blue.

How she cried, when he announced that they would be leaving LA in two weeks.

Just to think about the amount of progress they have made since then leaves Charles speechless for a moment.

"Thank you." He finally says it, nodding briefly at her. "This will probably make things easier for Davina."

Her eyes fill with sympathy and she smiles softly. It's a strange sight but a precious treasure for him.

"What about you?" Her voice is quiet as she strokes his forehead, brushing his hair away. "How are you dealing with this separation? And don't even try to act as if it doesn't affect you. Don't think I didn't notice the way your eyes were glinting. Just like they did three centuries ago, when you were trying to convince me to walk back through that gate."

The roll of his eyes is brief, and she waits patiently. Charles site up, moving to the edge of the mattress too.

His shoulders are tense, and she knows better than to push him right now.

"It's so fucking unfair." He begins, his jaw clenching while he gets to his feet and walks over to one of the walls.

Eleanor fights hard against the urge of telling him to lay down again. She knows they will be leaving soon, and it's time for him to start pushing his limits, going back to normal. Even though she's worried as fuck, he's always been used to doing just that. And Max has already assured them that the worst is over, saying that he can now walk safely, as long as he stops to rest from times to times.

With a heavy sigh, she leaves the bed too, carefully walking to his side. He shakes his head.

"So fucking unfair that she needs to be away from me again, all because of  _him_. God only knows when I'll see her again... She'll probably be years older when we're reunited,  _goddamn it_." His voice rises considerably when he says the last two words, and he punches the wall  _hard_. Eleanor almost flinches, once again doing her best to swallow her concern and ignore the instinct to check whether the effort has caused any further damage to his wound or not.

Charles lets his still clenched fist rest against the wall then, this hopeless look coming to his face as he lowers his eyes. "Goddamn  _him_."

Sensing his frustration, she slowly reaches out to touch his arm, her thumb stroking his skin soothingly.

She just prays it will be enough to keep him from snapping.

"You don't know that. We're not certain how long we'll need to stay in hiding-"

"For as long as he's alive."

Her mouth parts.

Eleanor is absolutely speechless, stunned, silence stretching between them while she tries to find her voice again.

"You're saying..."

"Eleanor, if I have to kill him, I  _will_." He faces her then, his eyes dark while her hand still rests on his arm. "It's not fair that we need to stay holed up in some freaky island God knows where, it's not fair that you will need to stay away from home, living in fear. You haven't seen Scott in four months. You haven't seen Madi, Caroline and your tavern in four months. I won't let this go on for too long. As soon as I'm fully recovered, I will leave our hiding place and go in search of my uncle, alone. I need to confront him, to see where he stands..."

A scowl refuses to leave Eleanor's face as she silently encourages him to walk back to the bed. Thankfully, he obeys.

"...And if almost causing my death isn't enough to make him forget his petty thirst for your blood, I will take care of him. He's standing on our way to happiness, and I won't allow it."

They sit side by side on the mattress, and Eleanor stays silent while trying to let that information sink in.

"You would kill Teach, for me?"

"He would be just another addition to the long list."

She scoffs, shaking her head at him. "We both know that's not true. Killing him... Fuck, this would take such a huge toll on you, and I'm afraid that... I'm not certain whether you will be able to deal with that or not. This will haunt you-"

"Then so be it." His tone is sure, firm and absolute while he looks her in the eyes. "I won't put your safety at risk, no matter what I have to do. I am  _not_  Rogers."

Again, he leaves her speechless. She's not sure how to react, not sure what to say.

Because there's nothing but  _honesty_  in his eyes.

Finally bringing her hands to his face, she finds the words to say.

"You care so much... You put my well being and my safety above everything else. You just  _care_  so damn much."

Grabbing one of her hands in his, Charles brings it to his lips. His eyes remain locked with hers as he drops a kiss to her knuckles.

"This is simply the way things could have been."

His simple statement makes her swallow hard, tears burning in her eyes.

She knows what he's saying.

All he wanted was to give her the love and the happiness she spent her whole life longing for. And she tore his heart to pieces.

Because she wanted the same thing, but she was just so damn scared. So resolute on following through with her plans.

How she wishes they could turn back time. The person she is today would surely have dropped that key, walked back through that cursed gate.

Will this huge sense of guilt ever leave her in peace? She finds herself wondering about that almost every week. And the answer is a simple  _no_.

But maybe Charles' forgiveness would at least be able to make it a little bit better... Too bad, she doesn't think he'll ever be ready to grant her  _that_.

And she's in no position to ask him for it.

* * *

Anne is walking the gangway to board the small wooden vessel behind their ship when she arrives at the covered harbor just before nightfall.

Taking a quick look around, Eleanor notices that Jack is nowhere to be seen and curses under her breath before calling out for the redhead and walking over to the boat.

Anne regards her with a raised eyebrow and she raises her chin, trying to sound as professional as she possibly can.

"So?"

The other woman nods at the bridge, standing in the middle of the gangway.

"She has an engine. I can hotwire it, and there's just enough gas for us to follow through with our plans. So we're in luck. If she was just a sailboat, we'd be fucked."

Eleanor nods, trying to mask her relieved sigh. "Keep doing what you're doing, then. We need everything ready until tomorrow night."

"You're really gonna burn the place down?"

Shrugging, the blonde turns around and begins the short walk to the bigger ship nearby. "Wish I could, but we only have the time and the means to start a fire near the storage room. At least it should be enough to keep them busy while we escape."

She doesn't get to see Anne's face while she says those words. But somehow, Eleanor just knows she has that wicked half smirk on her lips.

As soon as she boards the Ranger, she catches sight of the lone figure sitting on a barrel near one of the masts. Her smile is automatic but it fades away when she notices the sad look on Max's face. She's staring down at her phone screen, not noticing Eleanor's presence until it's too late.

Her mouth parts while her ex-lover hastily tries to hide the phone from her view. But she's already seen the picture.

Silence stretches and she can see that Max is mentally kicking herself. Finally, she sighs heavily and meets that pair of blue-green eyes.

"It's a picture I took... The day before Rogers kidnapped me. He was 10 weeks old."

Letting out a shuddering breath, Eleanor finally finds her voice again. "He looks so different... So different from the way he looked in the pictures you sent me... I had no idea their growth was so significant during those first weeks."

Max's chuckle comes out brief and weak.

"It is... Believe me. And in his case, since he was born malnourished, this growth is even more apparent."

The blonde lowers her eyes, then follows her ex-lover to the rail.

"What's on your mind?"

Max shakes her head. She tries to smile, but the barely noticeable glint of tears in her eyes gives her away. "It's so stupid... But I miss him. I got attached to that baby. And only now I am realizing, that I will never see him again."

"I'm so sorry."

Their eyes are glued to the ship guarding the harbor. Some of the men are on deck but they can't make out their faces from here.

Max knows an idea has formed in Eleanor's head before she even speaks.

"Maybe you could be reunited with him, in case something happened to his mother... He would need you."

Looking over at her as if she was going mental, Max frowns. "It's not like I could bring him to live with us in Nassau someday... This would destroy you."

"It takes a lot more than a baby to destroy me."

Max narrows her eyes at her, shaking her head subconsciously. "It would  _poison_  your relationship with Vane at the very least... I don't want that. I know that little boy has been the reason for a few fights between you and him already."

"Don't blame Aiden like that... He's innocent."

"Doesn't change the fact that his presence would be toxic for you and Charles."

Eleanor just shrugs dismissively at her words. "Abigail's presence is toxic too-"

"It's  _different_ , Eleanor. We both know that."

A scowl comes to the blonde's face and she looks away, not wanting the other woman to stare right into her soul as she always does. "Just forget it. I will be fine. Really. It's not the first time I've grown fond of a baby from the nursery, anyway."

Still refusing to look at her, Eleanor scoffs. "You used to forget all about those infants within a week, however."

"And I will forget all about this one too... It will just take me some more time. Simple as that."

She doesn't believe her for a second.

"But if something happens to Sarah-"

"Why do you keep insisting that something will happen to Sarah?"

Eleanor finally meets her eyes again, shaking her head. "I just have this feeling... She's sleeping with lions. That woman has no idea how dangerous it is... That nest of snakes. Between Mason, Woodes and their mother, she's so fucked. She could even die a 'mysterious' death, if they're too keen on getting full custody of that child. It bothers me to think that an innocent baby would be doomed to grow up with those monsters... They would raise him to be just like them-"

"Eleanor, this is  _not_  our problem." Max's voice is suddenly much harsher, and she's so surprised by the outburst that she immediately falls silent. "It's horrible, I know, but it's none of our business. Aiden is  _not_  yours, he's Sarah's. You need to stop associating him with the child you lost, just because their father is the same man... We have a lot on our hands as it is already, we don't need more.  _You_  don't need more."

Again, she averts her eyes. Even as Max places a hand on her shoulder. "You're not his mom. Even if Sarah dies, Aiden will still have living blood relatives. They're the ones who will have the right to raise him."

"You chose the wrong person to talk to about the 'importance' of blood ties. My biological father has abandoned me twice, I was raised by a man of a different race twice."

"So what would you do? Go on some rescue mission then raise him as your own? You know, this would send you and Vane right back to square one, is that what you want?"

Her jaw clenches, a pang of despair igniting inside her heart at the mere thought of  _that_. That familiar, delicate hand touches her again, this time grabbing a gentle hold of her chin and forcing her to meet those exotic eyes. "You've been working so hard... To mend your relationship with the man you have always loved. You two are doing so well. Please don't let all that progress be ruined, only for a baby that has nothing to do with you. This is not like you at all, so just let this whole story go already."

She barely notices the way Max's thumb strokes her chin tenderly. "Can you  _promise_ me that?"

It takes her a few seconds but she nods in confirmation. "Aiden is none of my concern."

_It's better like this..._

Max beams at her, letting fo of her chin.

"That's my girl."

Eleanor just has to scoff again.

But this time, she has an amused smirk on her face.

* * *

"Do you want to get yourself killed?"

Rolling her eyes at the grave voice that fills her ears when she closes the door behind her, Eleanor shrugs off her jacket.

"What do you mean?"

"You said Flint was going to escort you to the harbor... The same Flint who came here just a few minutes ago searching for you."

She's thankful that her back is turned to him.

This way he can't see her smirk.

Schooling her features into a more neutral expression, Eleanor turns around to face him.

"He was making sure his pilot could land the helicopter in the field nearby tomorrow morning. I didn't want to bother him, he's already doing so much for us."

"So you preferred to take the risk of being killed?"

"When exactly did you become so dramatic?" She asks while closing the distance to the bed, the corners of her lips twitching up when she sees the indignation in his eyes.

Still, his anger is soothed when she moves to straddle his lap.

_Typical._

"Your uncle is still at least five days away from his kingdom. We don't need to worry about him at the moment."

His hands come to rest on her thighs and she reaches to stroke his jawline. "And I've spoken to Flint at the waiting room. Everything is taken care of, tomorrow morning... Your sister leaves this hellhole for good."

He blinks. A barely noticeable scowl comes to his face.

And then he nods.

"Good... That's good."

After offering him a sincere smile, Eleanor presses a kiss to his lips. Hopefully, her attention will be enough to wash away some of his pain.

The emotional pain, this time.

* * *

He has a  _very_  bad feeling.

It was so foolish of him, to leave his kingdom while  _she_  is there...

That damn snake in the skin of a woman has a certain talent to cause irreversible damage to everything he holds dear. He wouldn't be surprised to find a tragedy waiting for him once they make it back to the headquarters.

As soon as he realized his mistake, Teach gave the order for the men to weigh anchor so they could be on their way.

The crew is taking turns manning the ship, so they should be home in three days time.

He needs to see his boy. He needs to see him alive with his own eyes, to keep him from leaving again.

He's not sorry for what he did. He wasn't wrong, after all.

Charles just needs to see reason.

His nephew just needs to understand that he's following the path to self destruction once again.

He needs to learn his lesson, once and for all.

* * *

The tension in the air could be cut with a knife.

Charles remains silent while she helps him back to his room, and she can still feel Davina's tears soaking her neck.

Saying goodbye was worse than Eleanor expected it to be, the little girl had a break down at the last minute and begged her big brother to let her stay with him, saying she wanted to be a pirate and sail the seas with them.

Surprisingly, Abigail was the one who swallowed her fear and approached them, gently tearing Davina away from Charles despite her obvious horror.

Eleanor is still impressed by how well he held it all together. Even though his jaw was clenched hard and he was glaring deadly daggers at the teenage girl, he didn't say a word.

Although he did flinch when Abigail accidentally touched his arm. The poor girl was even more scared, saying a quick apology and moving away from him immediately.

Taking Davina with her in the process.

It was Eleanor's turn to clench her jaw when she noticed the way Abigail touched Billy's arm.

He kept staring at the helicopter suspiciously, but since the teen was already used to flying, she helped him to gain confidence.

Eleanor prefers not to think about what can happen between these two at the château.

Mary only shared two quick hugs with them, not really comfortable with goodbyes either. But the worst was the way Davina kept looking at them through the window as the helicopter rose in the sky. They could see she was sobbing, wiping away her tears repeatedly, until they couldn't see her face anymore.

The car ride back to the headquarters was awfully silent, not even Jack had a word to say.

And now that they're back in the medical center, Eleanor feels as if a huge weight has just been lifted from her shoulders.

Even though saying goodbye was tough, Davina is currently on her way to a safe haven far, far away from here. They don't need to worry about her anymore.

They can follow through with their plans, they can leave this godforsaken place behind too,  _finally_.

And it will happen tonight, just like she has told Flint and Scott-

"Damn it!" Eleanor curses suddenly, just as Charles sits on the bed. Letting go of him, she rushes to her handbag and searches for her phone.

"What is it now?"

"Yesterday, I promised Scott I would call him before I went to bed, to let him know all about our current situation and also to assure him that I'm alright. I completely forgot..."

Grimacing at the numerous missed calls, she dials her father figure's number while Charles shakes his head.

"It's about 4 a.m. in the Bahamas now and the tavern opens at 8, he must be sleeping."

Her sarcastic laugh makes him narrow his eyes at her. "Trust me. He's still awake, waiting for me to call."

Sure enough, he soon picks up.

And Charles watches as she grimaces again, walking over to the bed. He can hear the older man's voice on the other side of the line when Eleanor sits by his side.

_"Do you want to give me a heart attack?"_

"I'm alright. I simply forgot to call you, it was a long day and I was exhausted."

_"Your mother and I were worried sick about you, Eleanor! And why did I have to learn about your escape plans through **Flint**?"_

Leaning back against the propped up pillows, Charles smirks.

This is priceless.

And so is the dark glare she gives him.

"I know I should have told you sooner. I'm sorry."

He can't believe it, but she actually looks like a child being scolded while Scott rants endlessly on the other side of the line. The amount of respect she has for this man is even bigger now than it was in her previous life, it seems.

For some reason, it feels nice to see this.

Once the parental reprimand is over, Eleanor straightens up again.

"Before I forget. Someone will move into the Island soon, and I told him to seek you at the tavern. Make sure he gets a good job there. Maybe as a security man. His name is Elijah Utley."

"Who is this man?"

She smiles, although he can't see it.

"A friend."

Hours later, when Eleanor is packing their clothes and making sure they won't leave anything behind in the hospital room, there's nothing but silence between them. They're both anxious for what's to come in just a few hours, neither of them was able to get much sleep last night, but they know it's useless to try and get some rest.

They will only be in peace when they're out in the open ocean again, this damn place out of their sight.

Eleanor has already made it very clear that she doesn't want him to make any efforts. He's not allowed to touch the helm, or any guns. Not until he's fully recovered.

It pisses him off, while at the same time it pleases him to see how much she worries, how much she  _cares_.

When she finishes packing their stuff, their eyes meet.

They both have serious looks on their faces, an easy, deep complicity flowing naturally between them.

The time is coming.


	31. Seven Devils

Gathered around the room, the seven people wait in silence.

It's close to 11 p.m. and they're waiting until the last doctor leaves the medical center.

Their plan is to head to the ship then, and take advantage of dinner time. All of the men will be at the cafeteria, it will be far easier.

Start a fire near the storage room. It will block the way out of the cafeteria, some of the pirates may die but they don't give a fuck at this point.

Synchrony is the key.

At the same time the fire starts, they will need to send the vessel.

With the men at the headquarters busy with the fire, and the men aboard the ship fighting for their lives, it will be an easy escape.

Everything is already planned. Anne will be responsible for starting the fire and -  _hopefully_  - she will have just enough time to run back to the harbor and board the Ranger again when they're ready to leave.

The wooden vessel is already loaded with explosives. They won't set it on fire too.

According to Charles, it would be risky to send such a clear threat, giving the men time to react. If they see the lone boat approaching, they will think someone is coming to deliver some sort of message.

But all the while Flint and Keswick will have their rifles ready.

Once the boat is at a safe distance, they shoot.

And then, it's a fireworks show they won't have the time to appreciate. Lucky for them, the ship guarding the harbor is just far enough for the Ranger to slip out, unharmed by the explosion.

It seems like a perfect idea, and it just might be...

As long as everything goes  _exactly_  as they're planning.

If anything goes wrong, well, then they're completely fucked.

* * *

Anne has waited until the others were distracted and pulled her to an isolated spot near the helm.

The redhead is dressed in black, two daggers strapped to her waist, and the glint in her eyes reminds Eleanor of that time when she emerged from the shadows three centuries ago, surprising her.

She has to admit it, back then she actually felt scared for her life, even if it was only for a second.

But to her credit, it's usually not a good idea to be alone in the middle of the night with a killing machine who hates your guts.

"I need you to do something for me."

Eleanor raises an eyebrow at the words, and the other woman nods towards the bow where Charles is discussing something with Jack and Max.

The unguarded look in Anne's face when she meets her eyes again is freaky to say the least.

"Promise me that you will get these two idiots and Max to safety, whether I make it back to the ship in time or not."

Eleanor can't help but scowl at the request. Only after a few seconds, she finally nods.

"Charles will probably put up some resistance-"

"Don't worry about him." The blonde cuts her off, speaking in a voice just loud enough for her to hear. "I have a certain talent when it comes to battling him for power, and I will take control of the crew whether he likes it or not. And Flint will certainly help me, teach me how to act as captain."

It looks like an echo from the past, the half smirk Anne offers her.

And then the unexpected happens.

"It's good to see you back to your normal self, cunt."

Her eyes widen briefly.

Was that a  _praise_  she just received from Anne?

Eleanor remains frozen in disbelief while the little brute leaves the ship, blending perfectly in the shadows just as her mentor has taught her.

* * *

When the screaming begins, Eleanor raises her chin.

Her eyes are glued to the entrance of the harbor, searching for any signs of Anne, but there's nothing.

The faint, alarmed yells from the headquarters fill their ears and she just wishes they could see the fire from here.

"If they realize something's wrong, this won't work."

She nods at Flint's words, biting her lower lip before facing Jack.

"Go start the auto pilot."

For the first time since their friendship started, he gives her a spiteful look.

It's almost as if they've traveled ten months back in time.

"That's not what we planned. Anne's supposed to do that when she comes back, you know that once the vessel is on its way, we need to weigh anchor."

His tone lacks any sort of kindness or sympathy, and it feels strange, considering how close they have gotten lately.

The pang in her heart is very unexpected and unwelcome.

Still, she needs to stand her ground.

"We all knew this could happen. This is more important, we're already risking everything with each second we wait. If those idiots at the other ship receive any news from the headquarters, they will know something's wrong when they see the vessel heading their way. They would shine a light on it, see the explosives and shoot it themselves. And if they're quick enough it will be  _our_  ship going down instead of theirs."

Jack looks over at the entrance to the harbor, shoulders tense as a few more seconds drag by.

"Very well then." He straightens up, nodding at her. "But if she stays, I stay too."

Unable to repress the roll of her eyes, Eleanor walks closer. "She can take care of herself. We could simply pick her up in some nearby port later, she will escape-"

"And who's to say nothing will go wrong?" Charles finally speaks. His eyes are full of warning when she looks at him. "She could even be stuck down there in the fire right now. You and Flint get the ship, the crew and Max to safety, but Jack and I are not going anywhere."

Anger flares up and she surges towards him. "You're still wounded!"

" _Wounded or not_ -" His voice comes out even louder than hers, and the power of their argument makes everyone else stop and watch in silence, like always. "I am  _not_ leaving this hellhole without Anne."

She opens her mouth to fight back, realizing this would turn into a huge fight, but any words she might have said die in her throat.

There's sudden noise from behind them, and everyone rushes to the rail, watching as that lone little vessel calmly slipped out of the covered harbor.

Her eyes immediately go to the crow's nest, and Flint nods.

He and Keswick have the rifles ready in a heartbeat.

And she looks over at the gangway just in time to see Anne come on board, gripping her arm tightly with a grimace of pain she's trying hard to mask.

As the crew hurries to get the Ranger ready to leave, Max rushes to the redhead's side, gently prying her hand away and exposing the nasty, huge burn marks on the skin of her left arm.

Both Jack and Charles try to walk closer, to assess the extent of the damage, but Max doesn't let them. And considering the fact that she's the only nurse on board, they have no choice but to watch as she leads Anne below deck for some treatment.

Taking a look at the vessel again, and seeing that it was already halfway to its destiny, Eleanor approaches Jack. "She came to me earlier, and requested that I got everyone to safety whether she made it back to the ship in time or not. I'm sorry."

The hard look on his face vanishes, his eyes still filled with relief as he sighs and offers her a weak smile, squeezing her arm reassuringly. "It's okay, love. Just don't think you have the power or the strength to tear the three of us apart. We have been surviving, working and living together for over two decades now, and our bond is so much stronger this time."

She nods, then meets Charles' eyes.

Relief fills her heart when she sees he's not glaring deadly daggers at her anymore.

"Now that everyone is safe and sound in the ship, shall we get ready for the fireworks show? We have the front seats."

Eleanor doesn't need any further encouragement.

"I want you to duck behind the rail once it starts." Charles tells her when they head to the bow, eyes glued to the small vessel nearly disappearing in the darkness. "They could try shooting at us."

Not even looking at him, she nods briefly.

They lose sight of the boat then, and she just hopes that Flint and Keswick are still able to see it from the crow's nest.

Seconds drag by and it feels like an eternity. She's starting to grow restless, almost calling out to her father figure to try and get some information.

But then the silence is broken.

As soon as she hears the shots, Eleanor grips Charles' hand tightly. She hates herself for it, but that painful memory is still so damn fresh, and for a second she could see him laying there on the deck again, motionless, blood flowing freely from his stomach.

But she has no time to berate herself for showing such weakness.

The power of the explosion is unlike anything she was expecting, and it suddenly looks like it's daytime already.

The sea lights up, the  _sky_  lights up, and even the Ranger sways in the disturbed waters.

Staring with wide eyes as the other ship catches fire, she's very satisfied to notice the amount of damage made to the hull.

_Those bastards are surely going down._

Charles forces her to duck behind the rail, and only then she comes back to reality.

Bullets fly, just barely missing their heads. Her heart is beating wildly, and her eyes are glued to Charles' as they lean against the rail, sitting on the wooden floor. Jack remains focused on the hatch door in the middle of the deck, probably praying that Max will be able to keep Anne down there where it's safe.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, she can't stop herself from smiling when their beloved ship springs to life, the wood creaking loudly as the men work, trying to stay out of harm's away.

Of course their girl could never disappoint them. It's almost as if she understands the urgency of the situation, gliding fast through the water, and Eleanor is sure she couldn't have possibly picked a better ship. Although she has Jack to thank for that one, technically.

She would have never thought she'd ever know what it's like to feel such pride and love for a  _ship_. If something ever happens to the Ranger, she will mourn the loss just as much as Charles. The mere thought of it is already enough to make her heart clench.

Luckily, with their ship going down and catching fire, the Somali pirates are unable to focus on shooting at them, and the bullets are getting less and less frequent.

When they slip out of the covered harbor and the starry sky greets Eleanor's eyes, she feels like screaming in joy.

But they haven't escaped just yet.

Sensing a presence looming nearby and noticing a sudden heat in the air, Eleanor brings her hands to the rail, pushing herself up on her knees so she could peek her head over the rail. Charles will probably give her an earful for this later, but she simply couldn't resist.

And what she sees is worth any dark glares and endless rants.

They're so close to the pirates. The fire is spreading fast, most of the wooden deck is burning already, and she can see the massive hole in the hull, water invading the bowels of the ship quickly.

Most of Teach's men have already realized that there's no saving for the ship, already jumping into the ocean and swimming back towards the shore.

But a few loyal men remain, trying to stay clear of the fire and screaming words foreign to her ears. Even though she doesn't understand what they're saying, it's clear they're wanting to follow their leader's orders, trying to keep them from leaving at all costs.

It's pitiful, and she just has to scoff in contempt.

It only lasts for a second, she only gets to rejoice in the sight of her enemy's burning ship for a brief, precious second before Charles forces her back to her previous position.

His hand squeezes her arm tightly and she actually hisses in pain. His grip will surely leave a mark but he's probably not even realizing how much strength he's using. She notices how tense he is, how much he wants to get up and  _do something_ , help their men...

But she has already promised that if he gives in to that urge, she will do the same thing.

And he just can't risk her safety.

In the seconds that follow, there's the pained screams.

Flint and Keswick are probably shooting those last few remaining men now, just as she and Charles had ordered them to do in case the pirates tried to put up some resistance.

Jesus, thank  _God_  neither Davina nor Abigail are here to see or hear this... Now more than ever, Eleanor knows that they did the right thing by sending them away.

Three splashes.

Three more shots.

Three more screams.

And then there's only the crackling of the fire, fading more and more with each passing second.

Only then Eleanor notices just how ragged her breathing has become.

The men stop, she shares a look with Charles and Jack before looking up at the crow's nest, worried about Flint and Keswick. But her concern is gone when she sees them raising to their feet.

Her father figure meets her eyes briefly before looking over in the direction of the ship they just passed.

Tension hangs heavy in the air until he gives them the announcement they're all waiting for, his voice loud and firm so everyone down on the deck could hear.

"We're free."

* * *

That barely noticeable smile refuses to leave her lips as Eleanor walks one of the corridors below deck, holding the small bottle in her hands. Soon reaching the door to Jack and Anne's cabin, she pauses and decides to knock first, just in case.

Max greets her with a smile, stepping aside so she could come in. She finds the redhead sitting on the edge of the bed, shirtless, staring at her injured arm.

When Anne looks up at her, there's just a brief shadow of hostility in her eyes.

But she still seems reluctant to be in the same room as her.

"How did it go?" Her voice is raspy, and Eleanor takes a step closer.

"Our plan worked perfectly. That ship is going down right now, and none of our men got injured. Things went better than we thought."

"So we're out of danger?" Max asks, leaning against Jack's precious armchair a few feet away from the bed.

"It seems so. But the men are still on deck keeping their guard up, Teach's pirates could get another boat and try coming after us. It's unlikely, considering the huge crisis they have in their hands back at the shore. Charles said that if no one comes after us in two hours we will be officially safe. Also, the wind is strong tonight, so we're going at a good speed." Carefully, she closes the distance to the bed, gesturing towards Anne's arm with her head. "What about your injuries, was it too bad?"

They don't see the way Max raises her eyebrows, watching the strange scene in silence.

Anne shrugs, but ends up wincing in pain with the movement.

"I've had far worse."

"Burns can be nasty as hell." Eleanor says, showing the small bottle in her hands to the other woman. "You must be in pain. I brought this for you, from the captain's quarters."

Suspicion fills her eyes as the redhead stares at the object, tension evident in every muscle of her body.

"Is it poison?" She asks with a raised eyebrow, meeting Eleanor's stare again. "Don't wanna be put out of my misery yet, sorry, this pain ain't enough."

She has to scoff at the words. "Not poison. It's... something to help soothe the pain, in fact."

Anne looks at her as if she has just turned into an alien.

"What is it?" Max asks curiously, still leaning on the armchair and not daring to come any closer. She's afraid to ruin this rare moment.

"It's a secret salve. My secret salve, actually. Made especially for ugly burns like these, it will help with the healing but mostly, with the pain."

Anne finally takes the small jar from her, unscrewing the lid and taking a peek at the contents. Her grimace is automatic.

"The smell's too strong."

"Well, then it's a good thing you won't have to ingest it, right?" Eleanor says, and she rolls her eyes just like her stubborn mentor.

Grumbling and complaining like a child from times to times must be one of the many things Charles has taught her.

"How exactly did you learn to make this salve? And why?"

The blonde hesitates for a few moments, then sighs heavily.

"In the past... After my mother's death, I would spend hours on end in my father's library, and there were a few books about medicine. I was curious about the subject at the time, so I read them all. Back then... My father was still very shaken by Caroline's death, so he was more cruel than usual. The slaves who cleaned the house, every little thing they did wrong... even when it wasn't their fault..." She trails off, shaking her head in clear disgust. "...my father developed a certain obsession when it came to punishing them. He used hot iron, branding them like horses, and I could hear their screams of agony from my room. It wasn't right, and I knew it. It could be Scott. So when I came across a miraculous salve, one that promised to take away the pain caused by burns, I knew what I had to do. Every night, I would sneak out and go tale this ointment to the slaves, and it helped them feel a lot better. Over the years, I added my own ingredients. Scott laughed at first and said it wouldn't work. But in the end, the efficacy only grew."

She averts her eyes, unable to deal with the warm, loving look of deep approval and admiration on her former lover's face. Anne seems to be having some trouble processing that information.

As if she can't believe that the tyrant, the  _snake_  was ever capable of such acts of kindness.

Eleanor has to admit it, it feels good to surprise her like this.

"So, can I apply it or not?"

Anne looks from the small jar to her face again, her suspicious scowl not fading for a second.

But it looks like the pain wins and she gives her a barely noticeable nod, handing the salve to her again.

Eleanor takes it slow, warning her that it was going to hurt even more when she started to apply it, but within a minute, the pain would be gone.

The mixture is thick, of a deep crimson that looks a lot like blood, and the redhead clenches her fists around the sheets when it touches her burned skin. But she shows no other signs of her suffering.

Max's eyes soften while she watches the scene, arms crossed, a loving smile on her face. Seeing her two girls like this is almost making her heart explode.

Once done, Eleanor closes the jar again and steps away from the bed, counting the seconds in her head.

"It's been literally centuries since the last time I did this. How are you feeling?"

She watches as Anne's fingers slowly relax their grip on the sheets, her eyes going to the skin of her arms, now covered in the red substance before meeting hers briefly. "It worked."

"Maybe a thank you would be nice."

Anne just scoffs at Max's words and Eleanor sets the jar on one of the bedside tables.

Jack insisted on getting a four poster king size bed with a thick canopy for his and Anne's cabin, and at first Eleanor wanted to do the same thing. But the captain's quarters already had a built in bunk, and she was skeptical about it back when they moved to the ship.

Still, Charles made her fall in love with that bunk, just big enough for the two of them and surrounded by three walls. It was built in an alcove, and surprisingly, she didn't feel trapped while laying down on it, Charles' body blocking the only way out.

She just felt so safe and comfortable.

So they kept the bunk. She still wants a curtain to act as a canopy and isolate their little nest from the rest of the cabin though.

"You're supposed to apply it every six hours for a week." She says, gesturing at the small jar. "The pain should be bearable after that. I also advise you to wrap a bandage around your arm, so the salve won't stain the blankets or your clothes."

The door opens just as Anne meets her eyes again.

"Charles wants the three of you up there -  _Jesus_." Jack interrupts his own words, his eyes wide as he rushes to the bed. "It wasn't looking so bad minutes ago."

"It's just the salve I applied to help with the pain, don't worry." Eleanor explains and Jack looks at her face for a moment before grinning.

"You treated her injuries? I knew the two of you would become chatty girlfriends sooner or later, that's so  _cute_. Her mentor needs to hear about that one right now."

Anne's punch to his stomach follows swiftly.

* * *

The other ship has just disappeared beneath the waves. Now they can't see the shore anymore, since the fire is gone. It feels safer like this, as if they're already in the middle of the ocean, away from dry land.

Eleanor can't contain herself.

The relief is just so huge, the happiness to be free again is so strong, that she brings her arms around Charles' neck, burying her face on his shoulder and letting him embrace her tightly right there on deck for everyone to see.

She knows she will probably regret this later, that she will wish they had waited to share this tender moment in the privacy of their cabin, but right now, she couldn't care less.

Even as she feels everyone's eyes on them, she sighs softly. Her fingers caress the nape of his neck while he holds her close and presses a kiss to the side of her head, one of his hands stroking her back in an almost revering way.

Her eyes are closed, and then their peace is disturbed.

The sudden, loud explosion catches everyone off guard.

Hastily lifting her head from Charles' shoulder and looking back at the shore as they all rush to the rail, Eleanor can't believe her own eyes.

It seems the fire has spread more than they expected back at the headquarters, and only now Charles remembers it. Near the storage room there was a corridor, plus a staircase made of old wood that led up to the building his uncle used as a cover... And to a small room where the pirates used to keep barrels and barrels of gasoline.

Not to mention the dynamite.

There's probably no way to save the building now, most of it will be lost. And he has a feeling that the men by the ocean watching the scene hopelessly are the only survivors.

Maybe 20 of them, and there were originally more than 50.

He's stunned to say the least. But Eleanor, Eleanor has this satisfied, cruel little smirk on her lips as she watches the shore, her hands resting on the rail and her chin raised high as she rejoices in sweet victory.

There is only one thought on her mind.

_I've come to burn your kingdom down._

* * *

The wood creaks as they finally make it to their cabin.

There's a soft grimace on Charles' face when he sits down on their bunk, and Eleanor knows that he pushed himself too hard tonight. Spending so much time on his feet without stopping to rest probably took a toll on him.

He's still injured after all, and now that the adrenaline from their big moment is passing, the pain is finally catching up to him.

Her eyes soften, and she heads over to their bags.

Before they left, she managed to grab as much medicine as she possibly could, not wanting him to suffer during their time at sea.

The painkillers that make him so sleepy, the ointment to help his wound heal faster. Anything that could make his suffering more bearable.

Her fingers brush those thick strands of his hair lovingly as he swallows the pills she brings to him. She helps him out of his jacket and shirt then, silently inspecting the injury. The bandages are gone now, but he still has stitches from his surgical procedures.

Eleanor makes a mental note of asking Max to check those tomorrow, to determine when they can be removed.

Her fingers stroke the skin near the nasty wound softly, and Charles watches her in silence for a while before tugging on her arm.

She gets the unspoken request.

To hell with medicine. Eleanor knows, deep down, that the best way to soothe his pain is to lay down with him and let him hold her close.

So that's exactly what she does.

It feels like they have reached heaven. To be back in the safety and the comfort of their ship, of their private sleeping quarters... The waves against the hull, the wood creaking, creating that perfect lullaby they have both missed so damn much.

Unable to stop smiling, Eleanor kisses his neck. Keeping her arm away from his wounds, resting near her head on his chest, she closes her eyes and inhales deeply.

How she missed this scent. The scent of him and their safe, little cocoon. Their familiar, beloved cabin where they have shared so much intimacy, so much joy, making their connection impossibly stronger.

If these walls could talk, they would have a lot of gossip to make.

Gossip about endless fights, heated arguments, a few slaps followed by desperate, passionate kisses. Wild nights, when they wouldn't stop for nothing. Moments of the most intense pleasure shared at the desk, the captain's chair, the bunk, sometimes even against the ladder or the heavy, large door.

They will probably be always like this.

Always fighting, then making up in the most delicious way possible.

Definitely, one of the things she will always love the most about their relationship is the makeup sex.

Sometimes slow and thorough. Sometimes violent and hurried.

Like the ocean in those calm mornings and during the storms.

In fact, they will always be like the ocean, she suddenly realizes. It's the best definition she will ever find for their unique relationship.

He's caressing her hip, and she knows that just like her, he would love to celebrate their newfound freedom. But they didn't get any sleep last night, too nervous about their upcoming escape, and now that the chaos is finally over they feel so awfully tired.

Her fingers close around the string of his necklace and their eyes flutter shut. They both drift off at the same time.

Not even the noise coming from Jack and Anne's cabin wakes them up from their peaceful, deep sleep.


	32. Why so Scared

"My mother used to tell me something, a long time ago..." She begins, shifting briefly in Charles' lap as the soft drizzle falls steadily outside. "She said you can only love once. Your body doesn't allow you to truly love anyone else, you just feel a great affection for the person, but 'true love' only comes once in your life."

Eleanor scoffs then, probably at the concept of "true love".

Playing calmly with a few strands of his dark hair, she frowns. "Do you believe that?"

Charles sighs heavily, his hand coming to rest over her thigh. She's still careful not to put too much weight on him, and it's starting to piss him off.

He doesn't like to think that she's seeing him as some breakable, fragile thing.

"Considering the fact I've been in love with the same woman since the 18th century, and she's the only one I've ever loved... I risk saying that Caroline's theory is right."

This stupid little smile comes to her lips, his fingers rubbing circles on her thigh.

_Only one I've ever loved._

Thinking about that still brings that same wave of satisfaction crashing over her.

The man everyone thought heartless, the hardened, dark pirate captain, falling for her and only her. Wrapped around her finger, capable of doing anything for her, anything to protect her.

She just feels so damn powerful.

Only now she realizes it... he doesn't make her look weak.

_Much to the contrary._

"Why are you saying that now?" His voice brings her out of her thoughts, and she's quick to shrug dismissively.

"Just felt like doing it."

"You're finally starting to miss Caroline. Aren't you?"

Her walls come up, and for some reason this makes her uncomfortable. She's getting used to keeping them down with Charles.

"I don't even think about Caroline."

"You just did."

She huffs impatiently, not leaving his lap but avoiding his eyes at all costs.

"It's okay for you to miss your mom." Reaching to brush her hair behind her ear, Charles can't keep himself from smiling briefly. "I won't think any less of you for that."

Finally meeting his eyes again, Eleanor shakes her head briefly before moving to press her lips to his. The distraction works, as usual, and she doesn't fail to notice the way he squeezes her thigh while deepening the kiss. His free hand goes to the back of her head, grasping a handful of her hair to keep her in place.

Every single time he does this, goose bumps erupt all over her arms, for some reason.

Just as he had predicted earlier, the gentle rain isn't getting any heavier, so they have nothing to worry about. That gave them some free, alone time in their cabin after dinner tonight.

It's been three days since their grand escape. Three days sailing east, towards the Maldives, so they could finally be on their way to Thailand, where the Walrus was waiting.

And their mysterious fate too.

They will part ways then.

Eleanor has already convinced Flint to take Max home after they get to Phuket. They put up a fight at first, but it will be better like this for everyone.

Especially for her family back in Nassau.

She knows that texts and phone calls aren't enough. Her mother, her sister and her father must be worried sick about her, so the sooner Max and Flint go back there, the sooner they can assure her family that she's perfectly safe and well.

To imagine them worrying about her every day is tougher than she expected. They don't deserve all this stress.

And truth be told, she misses all of them. She misses her talks with Madi, she misses Agatha's advices, she misses her father and the comfort of his embrace more than anything else.

She even misses Caroline and her reluctant attempts to approach her.

Not that anyone needs to know about that.

And all that matters for now is that they're all safe, although going through some tough times.

As it turns out, it's harder than they thought it would be; having only eight crew members to man the ship. They're all having to work much harder, even Eleanor is getting more acquainted with the helm, since she always threatens the captain whenever he tries to come anywhere near it. But him, Anne and Flint have all been teaching her how to steer, and she's learning fast.

Despite their profound relief to be free again, it's been stressful.

Especially for Charles, who's getting so damn sick of being treated like a dying patient. And to make things even worse, he and Eleanor aren't having much time for themselves since they escaped Somalia. They're usually so tired by the end of the day... When they're finally alone in their cabin, all they want is some sleep.

But tonight, tonight it's different.

The crew was in desperate need for a break, some alcohol down at the galley and hours of stupid card games.

So they have dropped anchor for the night, after Charles and Flint realized the rain wouldn't get any heavier.

With nothing to be done up on the deck, they were able to come spend some quiet time in their private quarters.

Eleanor finally allowed him to have some rum, only two glasses, but it was better than nothing. She drank a little too, and they spent some time in the captain's chair behind the oak desk, analyzing maps and simply making plans...

Plans for happier times, when everything will be easier. When the whole Teach situation is resolved, when Rogers is taken care of, when they're free to  _live_.

Eleanor couldn't help but feel excited at these thoughts. Spending months in the ocean, traveling the world with Davina, Mary, her family.

Watching in amusement whenever Flint and Charles disagreed in something. Seeing Scott bonding with Davina, of course his natural, paternal instinct will be instantly activated once he meets her.

Stopping in various ports and going out for drinks with Madi, with Max, and... maybe Anne too.

Caroline pestering her and Charles, insisting that the only thing missing in the ship is a little toddler running around...

_Her grandchild._

Breaking their kiss, Eleanor tries not to scowl at that thought.

How could the happy, beautiful scenario she had been painting in her mind turn so scary all of a sudden?

"Anne's arm has been getting much better. Thanks to you. It's good to see that the two of you aren't out for each other's blood anymore... As amusing as that was."

She knows this is the closest he will get to saying "thank you".

And to telling her that he's happy to see his two girls starting to get along.

Thinking about that suddenly brings a thought to her mind. Something she's been wondering about ever since she found Charles again and started going to the hideout, back when their memories were still gone.

"You and Anne. Did you ever..."

She trails off but he gets the meaning anyway. And the immediate " _hell no_ " she had been expecting never comes.

Her eyes narrow.

" _Charles_."

His heavy sigh only confirms her suspicions, jealousy sparking in her chest. Subconsciously, she grips his shoulder tighter in a possessive gesture. Her raised eyebrow is telling him to keep talking, and that's what he does.

"It's so stupid that we never even mention it."

"That's  _not_  what I asked. What exactly did you do with her?"

The idiot smirks at her and she wants to strangle him. He  _knows_  she's jealous and hell, she can't do anything to hide it.

"There was this time, she was 18, I was 23, and she had a bad fight with Jack. I don't remember what brought it on, but she actually told him she never wanted to see his face again. We got the motorcycle and went to my uncle's cabin."

" _Our_  spot-" Her voice is filled with indignation and she's glaring daggers at him. Already regretting her outburst and clear display of jealousy, she decides to hold her tongue.

"She just wanted to leave the big city for a while, and so did I. That's why we went there and on my defense, it wasn't our spot back then. I didn't even know you... Sort of. You were probably a 15-year-old sitting through all those boring, high society dinners at the time."

The roll of her eyes is priceless.

"We got very, very drunk that night, she was hurting, already missing Jack and hating herself for it. That mix never ends well. I remember finishing a cigarette and tossing it into our campfire, and next thing I knew she was in my lap and kissing me."

Eleanor clenches her jaw hard and it's one of the most adorable things he's ever seen. For a moment, he considers the idea of messing with her, saying that things escalated quickly after that.

But he doesn't want her to go kill his protégée.

"It lasted for maybe ten seconds... Because then we started to laugh at each other."

She looks surprised to say the least. "What?"

"Exactly what you heard. I had never laughed so hard in my two lives... It was the one and only time it ever happened, in fact. We couldn't breathe. The situation, we couldn't stop laughing at it, once we realized just how absurd it was. Took us a while to calm down. And 20 minutes later, when she was laying down with her head on my lap, I told her she needed to cut that bullshit and settle things with Jack. Of course she ended up listening to me. We went back to LA the very next day."

"Did you tell Jack about it?"

He nods, the corners of his lips twitching up. "He laughed even harder than we did."

Eleanor remains silent for a few seconds. For some reason, now she can't bring herself to feel angry anymore. She has to admit it... All those times Charles and Anne would take the motorcycle and disappear in the island to go drink God knows where, just the two of them, coming back to the ship only in the morning... She  _did_  feel a little bit jealous.

Even a little bit afraid, maybe.

But now more than ever, she's sure that the relationship between these two people, these two people who are so much alike, could never possibly develop into a romantic/carnal one.

Charles' revelation is a relief, and now she's actually glad she asked that question.

"Don't poison her."

That deep voice brings her back to the here and now, and she can't help but scoff. "You make it sound as if I am a jealous person."

To her surprise, he laughs.

He  _laughs_.

Not a dry, barely audible chuckle.

Not one of his amused, crooked smirks.

Real,  _loud_  laughter.

It's such a foreign sound, and she's stunned in the best way possible.

"What about all the whores you used to intimidate?" He finally asks, a wicked smirk refusing to leave his lips. "Took me months to convince them we were finished, and that it was safe for them to offer me their services again."

"Don't talk about that." Eleanor's voice betrays her. The hint of pain is perfectly detectable, and she mentally kicks herself.

Charles' sarcastic smirk vanishes, this deep look in his eyes as he brushes her hair behind her ear again. "You're not jealous, huh?"

"I just don't like to think about anyone touching what belongs to me. It's perfectly understandab-"

Her words are cut off when he grabs the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulls her closer abruptly.

The kiss catches her off guard, but she recovers quickly.

Her arms move around his neck, even though she's still mindful of his wound, careful not to touch it.

Tongues battle for dominance and she eventually grants it to him, letting him grip her hair and angle her head, gaining better access.

When she moans softly into his mouth, his hand on her knee starts inching towards her inner thigh.

She knows what he wants tonight.

She knows it's been  _way_  too long, and her own body is craving for him by now, but the wound...

Max has already warned them that it's not safe for him to make this kind of effort just yet; he still has  _stitches_ , for fuck's sake.

But when his hand reaches the apex of her thighs, all those thoughts fly out the window.

She's wearing nothing but her underwear and one of Charles' favorite shirts, and that gives him easy access to his destination.

She wants to regain her self-control. To tell him to stop and force him to take his medicine so he could go to sleep.

But no matter how hard she tries, the words simply won't come out. She's only managing to dig her nails into his shoulder while that pair of skilled fingers move inside her.

Her eyes are closed and she's still trying to find her own voice when his lips touch her neck, softly grazing her skin at first. Then the unexpected bite makes her breathe in sharply. It feels as if he's setting her body on fire when she hears that slow " _Miss you_ ", his voice low and filled with that oh so familiar, uncontrollable lust for her.

For some reason, this makes her self-control come back for a while.

Finally opening her eyes, she shakes her head. Her heart is beating so fast and she just  _hates_  how breathy she sounds when she speaks.

"You heard Max. You're still recov-"

His jaw clenches and her words are cut off when his fingers pick up their pace.

Her head falls to his shoulder and she bites her lower lip hard. There's this fire burning stronger and stronger, and she knows she needs more.

As talented as those clever fingers are, she just knows they won't suffice tonight.

Through the haze in her brain, she hears his suggestion. If she stayed on top, there would be no harm done.

Her scoff is automatic.

"Every time I do that you find a way to flip us over at some point. It wouldn't be any different this time and you would burst those stitches open..."

She trails off, suddenly remembering a certain detail from a certain night weeks ago.

Her eyes go to one of the drawers on the desk and he notices her serious expression. His fingers stop, his eyes silently questioning her, and she takes a deep breath before speaking.

"I have an idea. We can try it, if you want... But considering your past, I don't know if you will... be okay with it."

A soft frown of confusion comes to his face. She gathers the courage before reaching to open the drawer. It only takes her a few seconds to find what she's looking for.

His eyes narrow when she shows it to him.

* * *

He finally caved.

Finally gave in to his despair.

Locked himself in his sleeping quarters with a few bottles of the expensive champagne they always keep in the Eurydice.

He never thought this could make him so goddamn drunk, but then again it's been a few days since the last time he ate anything.

They have searched the entire Bahamas at least three times.

Every island. Every single port. Every inch of the bright, blue ocean.

His eyes hurt from scanning the horizon for hours on end, looking for sails...

They went to Nassau yesterday, and it took all of his willpower not to break down.

Because he found the tavern. He found it, and he found the security man.

Scott. He was opening the place, and the minute he saw him, his face became somber.

_"I mean no harm. Not to you. Not to your family. I just need to know if you have any clues as to her whereabouts. We both want to bring her back to safety."_

_"She's gone."_

_The amount of hostility in the man's voice makes him clench his fists tightly. How can such an inferior human being dare to disrespect him like that? Doesn't he know that his race, his kind, owes obedience and respect to their masters?_

_He really needs to teach his wife how to handle her slaves better._

_"She's not gone. I know she's alive. And this time, I will not let her die."_

_"Vane took her, months ago." So Max was telling the truth, after all. He was beginning to doubt her story. "We did not raise alarm because he swore to kill her if we did. But as long as we keep silent and leave him in peace, Eleanor will not be harmed. She is his prisoner, but she's safe. There is nothing we can do, except wait and pray that one day, Vane will show mercy and bring her back to her family. I will be sure to let you know, if that day ever comes."_

Remembering that conversation now, he scoffs in contempt.

He doesn't trust that man. His kind is bitter, he would never cooperate. Those people hate his race and he knows that.

_As if it's our fault we're superior..._

At least he managed to discover something. They're currently in a port near the tavern, and during a chat with the harbourmaster he learned the name of the ship they're looking for.

The Ranger, a sailing ship just as he suspected. According to the middle-aged man he spoke to, Vane used to keep his ship in this very same harbor, until they left the island four months ago.

And this was the first time he got an affirmative answer.

His wife was seen in this place.

It's strange. If that piece of filth was traveling the Bahamas like Max said, then why was Eleanor seen only in this island? Maybe it makes sense, of course Vane would keep her locked somewhere below deck to avoid drawing any unwanted attention, but then again...

How come his ship wasn't seen in any of the other ports they visited?

How long would he be able to sail... before needing to make port for supplies?

It makes no sense.

It makes no sense at all, and he's starting to think there's a  _lot_  more to this story.

What if Max lied? What if that savage beast left the Bahamas and went somewhere else?

His eyes drop to the map spread out across his desk.

This whole wide world... They could be anywhere in this huge, vast ocean...

Tears burn in his eyes and he throws one of the champagne bottles to the nearest wall.

Glass shatters loudly, and he buries his face in his hands.

God, but he's so damn  _stupid_.

Back when Eleanor was passed out in his mansion, after he and Mason went to retrieve her from her father's home, he thought about implanting her with a chip... Just as a safety measure.

He should have done it.

It would be the only way to find her now.

Barely acknowledging the lone tear running down his scarred cheek, he looks over at the king size bed of his sleeping quarters.

They slept in that bed. The only time Eleanor slept in his arms in this new life.

The memory is so painful, but it's nothing compared to another one, that night when they had their first dinner date.

She was so exhausted. Her memories had just been returned, she was going through such a harsh time, all alone. She leaned on him so much back then. He was surprised to see her approach him, she used to hate him before. But he never understood why she always had this sad glint in her eyes whenever she looked at his face.

She was happy to be with him again. But he didn't remember her, and this was just another blow to his poor wife's already fragile heart.

Still, she remained by his side, so loyal, so devoted, because he was her hero, wasn't he?

He always knew it. Always knew she was different. What he felt for her was too deep, right from the start.

That night when he carried her from his car to her room in Richard's mansion... She was sleeping so peacefully in his arms, like an angel, and when they reached her room and she touched his cheek again, still unharmed back then... The gesture made something stir, deep inside him. It was after that gesture, that strangely familiar and beautiful gesture, that his dreams about the past started.

She triggered his memories.

_"Would you like to... stay here with me tonight?"_

Her perfect, sleepy voice echoes in his mind, haunting him like a ghost. He should have said yes. She needed him to hold her that night, he should have stayed with her.

There is so much he should have done.

So much he  _shouldn't_  have done.

Like drugging her.

Like trying to rape-

No, that wasn't him, was it? No... It was  _Vane_. Always that filthy pig, hurting his delicate flower... But he? He would never do such a thing to her,  _never_. He has never touched his wife against her will.

Unlike that animal, that  _thing_ , as Eleanor herself had said.

He needs to keep searching. They will leave the Bahamas tomorrow and travel towards South America, then Africa, then Europe, Asia, hell, even to Antarctica, but they will find the Ranger.

_They have to._

For a moment, he can see her.

Sitting on the bed, the darkness of the cabin barely letting him make out her features. But she's smiling at him and knitting for their child...

Not for Aiden. It's a baby cap too small for his son, this must be for the child they lost.

Swallowing the lump that has formed in his throat and letting another tear escape, Rogers clenches his fist on the desk and shakes his head as the hallucination disappears right before his eyes.

His precious jewel, his poor wife. The amounts of suffering she must be going through in the dirty hands of that vengeful savage right now...

She's probably so desperate, so scared, in so much pain...

_So much pain..._

* * *

" _Fuck_ -" The breathy curse leaves her parted lips, her eyes squeezing shut.

This sight is even more glorious than his ship breaking through the waves during sunrise.

He's mesmerized by the way she moves. The sounds she's making, her face filled with the deepest pleasure. Her breasts bounce tauntingly as she moves up and down, setting her own rhythm, and his mouth waters at the sight.

His instinct urges him to grab her waist, to pull her closer so he could capture one of those perfect nipples between his teeth... And then he remembers that he can't.

The ropes restraining his wrists won't let him.

He still can't believe he agreed to this, he  _was_  very reluctant at first, but his lust for her ended up winning.

_Of course._

The minute he saw the ropes in her hand, a low growl had left his throat. This was too much, it brought painful memories to the surface, and he didn't think he could do it.

But for now this is the only way he could have her, and he forced himself to remember that she wanted to restrain him for his own safety, his own well being.

There were no dark, ulterior motives.

No cruel little games.

She just wanted to make sure he wouldn't hurt himself any further.

She was  _caring_  for him.

When she tied his wrists to the metal loops above their pillows, the very same ones he used to torture her in the best way possible weeks ago, he was surprised to see how attentive she was, going slow and keeping her eyes on his face most of the time.

She didn't want to trigger any traumas from  _that_  part of his past, the one they almost never talk about.

Her gentle handling was enough to chase away any bad memories.

And when she tightened the knots just as he taught her, when he found himself restrained, he felt like a caged animal, a wild horse tied to a fence. And the instinct to break free rose.

_Only for a second._

Because then she was stroking his face, her free hand over his heart. The soft, gentle caresses of her thumb on the skin of his chest was all it took to calm the beast.

Her lips went to his neck then, and the last bit of discomfort faded away while she kissed and nipped her way down his chest, down his abdomen. His heart skipped a beat when she dropped a feather-light kiss to his wound, before moving lower and -  _finally_  - taking him in her mouth.

At first it was unnerving, being unable to grip her hair, to simply touch her, but he soon started to enoy the strange experience.

It felt  _new_. The complete lack of control, the glint in her eyes whenever she looked at his face. Seeing her like that, so powerful, so alive, this was always a huge turn on. And he could only watch her in partially veiled awe.

But within minutes he was desperate for more. She had no way to restrain the rest of his body, and when his hips started bucking off the mattress, his self-control gone, she stopped and sat up on her knees.

The low " _Shh_ " that left her lips only made him even crazier, and his chest was heaving when she placed her knees on either sides of his hips, reaching between her own thighs to position him at her slick entrance.

She was such a tease. Going so slow at first, but she was just as impatient as he was.

The look on her face and the long, shaky sigh of satisfaction that left her lips when she finally lowered herself onto him could have been enough to make him come right then and there.

They spent a few precious moments just enjoying the wonderful feeling of being joined again after all those torturous, nightmarish weeks, and when she started to move, doing all the work and taking what she needed, Charles caught himself wondering whether that bullet killed him or not.

Because this was  _heaven_.

He had forgotten how glorious she looked like this. Moving above him like the succubus she always was, so perfect in every way, so strong. She's like a Goddess, receiving him in the afterlife.

Every sigh, every broken moan of his name, every time she runs her nails down his chest, her lips parted and her eyes locked with his... Everything is absolutely intoxicating.

Better than rum. Better than the strongest of cigars.

Out of all his vices, he will always pick  _her_.

When her movements begin to grow erratic, her voice more desperate, all he wants is to grab her hips, to help her chase and find her pleasure, but before he can even try to free his wrists, she's flying.

That short scream of his name will  _never_  fail to make goosebumps erupt all over his body.

Her thighs quiver as she rides out her release, he's buried deep inside her, and only realizes how damn close he also is when she starts to come back from her high.

His low, urgent growl is enough to make her get the message, and of course she doesn't disappoint him.

Getting strength from God knows where, she resumes that mad pace again, he can see she's sensitive from the way her face contorts briefly from times to times. And luckily, it doesn't take too long before he's falling over the edge too, her name a barely audible praise on his lips.

She's quick to free his wrists.

When he realizes it, she's collapsing down by his side, her breathing far heavier than his. She's covered in sweat, and he swears he can hear her heart drumming wildly.

When their eyes meet, he's overtaken with the deepest devotion.

"You're okay?" Her voice is so breathy, filled with exhaustion and profound satisfaction, and the layer of sweat making her beautiful neck and breasts glisten is a feast to his eyes.

His hand reaches out to wipe her forehead, and then he's pulling her to him.

"You did so fucking amazing."

Her breathless laugh makes him smile like an idiot.

"Did I hurt you?" She shifts in his arms, looking up at his face and surprising him with her next words. "Physically... Emotionally?"

For a second, he just stares deep in her eyes. The shake of his head makes the corners of her lips twitch up before she buries her face in the crook of his neck.

As the sweat covering their bodies begins to dry, their breathing slowly returning to normal, they lay there in peaceful silence.

He's stroking her hip and she's rubbing slow patterns on the skin of his chest, occasionally pressing a kiss or two to his birthmark.

And even as exhausted as she is, she's still focused on caring for him, it seems.

"I'll go get your medicine in a minute, okay?"

Her voice sounds so sated, so lazy and delicious, and he holds her tighter in his arms.

"Honeypot,  _this_  is far better than any pain pills."

She chuckles.

And then her fingers suddenly stop their motion against the skin of his chest.

Pills...

_Pills._

Oh,  ** _crap_**.

Eleanor sits up so abruptly on the mattress that she easily breaks free from his tight embrace.

Her chest is heaving again and she's staring at the wall that touches the foot of the bunk, barely noticing Charles' soft groan of pain when he sits up too.

"Eleanor, what's wrong? Are you hurt?"

He still sounds a little bit breathless and she's unmoving, sitting there on the mattress beside him. Her eyes are filled with pure horror.

"What is-"

"5 weeks." She speaks, not looking at his face. "You got shot... 5 weeks ago."

His confusion only grows.

"I still have the pain to remind me about that, no need to-"

" _Charles_!" Her voice comes out so angry, and he immediately falls silent. She still can't bring herself to meet his eyes, and she's  _trembling_.

He knows it's better to let her speak.

"I... since the day you got shot, I haven't..." She needs to pause, take a deep breath... He's starting to get worried. "...I haven't even  _touched_  my birth control pills."

It feels as if his whole world has stopped turning... Then fear takes him over.

And he reacts to it the only way he knows how.

_With anger._

"How can you just forget-"

"I was watching you  _die_ , you bastard!" She finally meets his eyes, and he sees the fear on her face too. It seems she's dealing with it the exact same way as him. "Birth control was the last fucking concern on my mind! And then I was so focused on taking care of you-"

A sob escapes her lips and he can't believe his own ears.

What in the world is he supposed to do?

"You think it's possible..."

"I don't know! I've... read somewhere that once you stop taking the pills, it takes a while for your body to go back to normal, maybe we will get away with this, but... I'm not certain..."

Most of their anger has evaporated. They're staring at each other's faces, completely clueless, for once in their lives they have absolutely no idea what to do.

The look in her eyes is killing him.

She's just so damn scared.

And hell, so is he.

Charles knows there's a good chance she will slap him. But he still puts his arms around her again, and she only fights for a split second before remembering the wound and going still.

She's still shaking when he moves them so they're laying down again and he pulls the blankets over their bodies, despite knowing that her trembling has absolutely nothing to do with the chilly night air of the high seas.

"It's the middle of the night and there's nothing we can do for now." He whispers in her ear, hoping this will have the same calming effect it always does. "We have Max on board, maybe she'll be able to give us some information. In the morning. For now, try to get some sleep. I promise everything will be just fine."

She tries. He does too.

But in the end, they both need to take a high dose of the painkillers in order to be able to keep their eyes closed.

Even while they're drugged, their sleep is still restless as hell.

* * *

"What in the world am I going to do with the two of you? Everything Jack and I say around here comes in through one ear and out the other!"

Charles seems absolutely ready to choke their nurse to death. His fist is clenched on the surface of the desk as he sits on the captain's chair, and Eleanor gives him a look before focusing back on Max.

"Months ago, I was trying to push you back into each other's beds and you refused to cooperate... And now that I said it's not safe for you to fuck..." She scoffs dramatically, walking around in the cabin. When she meets Eleanor's eyes, sarcasm is written all over her face. "' _I'm not on the pill anymore_ ', there are threats everywhere we look and now you come telling me that a child could be brought into all this chaos too! Who's going to have to take this baby away in nine months and go hide with him or her God knows where while you idiots take care of Rogers and Blackbeard? That's right, Max will, of course. Always Max!"

Eleanor notices when Charles clenches his fist harder.

"Are you quite done?"

"What else is there to say, Eleanor? This is the  _worst_  time possible, you can't bring a child into this hellish situation. For God's sake, even if there were no threats, you two are still evolving, figuring out what you mean to each other and trying to coexist in peace... This isn't the right time for you to have a baby!"

The words only make their fear grow. They were trying to ignore this as best as they could, avoiding any talks about an actual baby and not addressing the subject fully. But now Max is forcing them to do so, and they're so fucking uncomfortable.

"There are pills I can take, right? For emergencies like this." Anxiety is clear as the light of day in her voice, and Charles lets out a brief, dry chuckle filled with sarcasm.

"The next time you see a pharmacy floating in the middle of the damn ocean, just let me know and we'll stop."

Eleanor glares daggers at him from her spot in front of his desk. "Watch your fucking tone while you're talking to me."

Max was just watching their interaction in silence, but then she shakes her head and lets out a heavy sigh. "Jesus. This child would already be born knowing how to curse, fight, rule an island and give the middle finger to all the other babies in the nursery."

Eleanor brings one hand to her forehead, her eyes squeezing shut for a moment. "Just please, stop saying that word."

"And I am not done scolding you. Serves you right for not listening to me... Considering his current state, you two shouldn't even be doing this right now."

"We found a way to do it without hurting him-"

Max's loud groan interrupts her words. " _Please_ , stop talking. I may have encouraged you two to go back to each other, that doesn't mean I need to know all the seedy details."

For a second the corners of Eleanor's lips twitch up. But then her eyes fill with fear again and she ducks her head. Charles steals a quick glance at her before going back to staring at the surface of the desk, and Max suddenly realizes how beautiful this sight is.

Eleanor standing proudly  _in front_  of her man's desk. Not behind it, in the shadows, not in submissive silence.

But in front of it, doing most of the talking and not backing down for anything in this world.

"We're fucked... Aren't we?" That nervous voice brings her back from her thoughts and she sighs.

"I can't say for certain... Every woman is different. You could stop birth control and get pregnant the very next day, it's perfectly possible... But some women need several weeks until their fertility goes back to normal. I can't say which one you are. I'm not inside your body."

Eleanor lets out a shuddering breath and it's heartbreaking. She's clearly so damn anxious, scared and frustrated.

"How much longer until we reach the Maldives?" Max's question is directed at Charles this time, and he doesn't even look at her when he answers.

"6 days. Maybe 8, if the wind is not in our favor."

"Will the pill still work?"

With a heavy sigh, Max shakes her head. "No. It won't."

Bringing a hand to her hair, the blonde shakes her head and walks over to the line of windows behind the desk.

"There's nothing we can do now, except hope for the best... And it's not the end of the world. Even if you do get pregnant, you could... get rid of it, if you do it early enough... The embryo won't feel any pain. Maybe it would be better than bringing a child into this chaos, to suffer and be away from his or her parents. Because you know full well you would have to send the infant away. This baby would become the target of Rogers' anger, he would want to kill the child. As long as that monster is alive, this world will be a dangerous place for a child of yours."

Knowing she should leave them alone for now, Max walks over to the door. Neither of them manage to look at her as she speaks. "Whatever happens, I am here. Whatever  _you_ decide, Eleanor... Because it is  _your_  body, in the end. If you decide to go through with this... I will be here to help you, both of you..." She hesitates, opening the heavy wooden door. "...and the child too."

She's gone after that, and Eleanor swallows the lump in her throat, doing her best to ignore the tears burning in her eyes.

"She spoke about taking it away, twice... I think Max really wants a godchild."

Her attempt at lightening the mood fails, and even though she still has her back to Charles, she knows he's shaking his head.

"I'd be a shitty father. Believe me."

The amount of self-hatred in his voice surprises her. Frowning, she walks over to the desk, but he refuses to look her in the eyes, keeping his head lowered.

"The man who abandoned you, Naomi and Davina is a shitty father. Woodes is a shitty father, for leaving Aiden behind when that poor boy needs him the most... The same goes for the man who abandoned me twice. You?" She tries to grab his hand. He moves it away from her reach. "You're great with Davina. You  _love_  her, and I know you would love and protect any child of yours with all your strength. You are not Lorenzo. I have already told you; break free from these chains. You are not your father."

Wordlessly, he gets to his feet and reaches for his brown leather jacket. Eleanor watches as he walks to the door.

"You put too much faith in me when it comes to this. Maybe you should avoid that. I don't want to disappoint you."

_To disappoint our child._

The words he didn't say still hang heavy in the air, and before he walks out the door, he meets her eyes briefly.

"Just pray you're not pregnant."

When he leaves her alone in the cabin, she can't stop herself from scowling.

Slowly sitting down in the captain's chair, she shakes her head.

_Finally, the revelation came..._

So he wouldn't want this... He wouldn't want to have a child with her. But it's not like she wants a baby with him either...

_Then why does it hurt so damn much?_

* * *

3 days later, Eleanor bursts into Jack and Anne's cabin with a huge smile on her face.

The three people look at her in question, and she shakes her head at Max.

"I'm not."

Her former lover gets the meaning, getting to her feet. She had been examining Anne's arm while Jack read a book on his armchair.

Letting out a brief laugh, Eleanor says it again. "I'm  _not_."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes. This is such a relief,  _God_ , I can't believe it."

Jack closes his book and sets it aside, straightening up on his seat. "Did you tell Charles already?"

"He hasn't said a word to me since the day Max talked to us in our cabin. So no. I'll tell him tonight."

He nods, letting out a heavy sigh and sharing a look with Anne. "Do that. He's a mess right now."

"He almost broke the table down at the galley this morning." Anne tells her, and she scowls in disbelief. "Because one of the men said he likes to fuck pregnant women. As soon as he heard that word, he snapped."

"Did he hurt himself?" Eleanor asks, walking closer to the bed, and Anne shakes her head.

"I followed him to the corridors and made him show me the wound. The stitches were all intact."

"Well, this is a relief, of course... The last thing we need right now is another challenge in our hands, and what a huge challenge this would have been..." Jack says, rubbing his forehead and giving Eleanor a look. "...But I admit it; I  _am_  a little bit disappointed."

"He was already talking about all the stories he wanted to tell that kid." Anne says with a disapproving look on her face and Jack shrugs.

"Come on. Wouldn't you like to have a little one running around the ship and calling you Auntie Annie?"

The redhead glares deadly daggers at him. So does Eleanor.

Then a thought comes to her mind and she offers Jack a wicked smirk.

"If you want a child running around the ship, then make one yourselves."

His grin falls and he tells her an " _ouch_ " as her smirk widens and she turns around to walk out the door.

Once Eleanor leaves the cabin, she only takes 5 steps before Max's voice stops her.

Looking back over her shoulder, she sees her former lover stepping out in the corridor and closing the door behind her.

"I know I was freaking out three days ago, but I was just as nervous as you and Vane. Now, however... I must ask."

The blonde frowns, staring at her in question. "Ask what?"

She hesitates for a moment, seeming to be choosing her words carefully.

"Would it really be so horrible? To have a baby with the right man?"

The words make her heart clench for some reason and she lowers her eyes, resuming her walk.

"Eleanor."

She stops again, but makes no move to meet the other woman's eyes.

Max's voice is gentle and soft when she asks another question that pierces her soul painfully.

"Why are you so scared of filling that void in your heart?"

There's only silence for a few seconds.

When Eleanor answers the question, her voice is barely audible.

"I have no idea."

She walks away then, leaving Max standing alone in the corridor with a scowl on her face.

* * *

Of course, he doesn't say a word when he comes back to their cabin after nightfall.

On the bunk, Eleanor closes her book slowly, watching while he got rid of his jacket and shirt, starting to get ready for bed.

His silence is still so unnerving, and she can't take it anymore.

"I got it."

He stops, then slowly turns around to face her.

"What?"

"My period. I got it."

She sees relief in his eyes, but he's not ready to feel hopeful just yet. Walking closer to the bed, he can't stop scowling.

"So that means..."

Eleanor hums in response, sitting on the edge of the mattress as he stops in front of her.

"That's for certain? 100%?"

She just has to laugh. "Yes! Stop worrying already."

It takes a few moments.

And then finally,  _finally_ , there it is. This beautiful smile she had missed so much during the past three stressful days.

She can't repress the long yawn that leaves her lips, exhaustion finally catching up to her.

"I just feel so awfully tired. That was an emotional rollercoaster. So can we please go to bed?"

She doesn't need to ask twice.

In a couple of minutes, they are both under the covers, finally in each other's arms again.

"Once we reach the Maldives..." Charles trails off, rubbing patterns on her waist, and she sighs in satisfaction.

"Hmm?"

"Can you take one of those tests? Just to make sure."

Chuckling briefly against the skin of his neck, Eleanor shakes her head.

"God, you're  _really_  terrified, aren't you?" Pressing a quick kiss to his birthmark, she snuggles closer. "It's over. There's no child growing inside me. But yes, I'll do it. If it will make you stop feeling scared, I'll do it."

He stays silent for a long while, and she thinks he fell asleep. She's only half awake by the time he speaks again.

"Good."

He didn't even try to deny he's scared.

In a way... It's adorable.

It's adorable, and new, and  _heartbreaking_  all at the same time.

And she chooses to lock that last emotion away instead of trying to understand it.


	33. Arachnophobia

"Now that you two are becoming friends, maybe you should make a bet, just for fun. To see who gets pregnant first."

Eleanor and Anne both roll their eyes at the exact same time while walking inside the drugstore side by side.

Jack is right behind them, he's been talking since they left the ship and the two women are starting to seriously consider the idea of leaving him behind when they sail away from the Maldives.

"Christ, you really want an infant screaming all night long in the ship, don't you?" Eleanor looks over her shoulder briefly, shaking her head at him. "That's a bet I would be happy to lose. I already told you that if you want a child giving us hell every day, you should make one yourself."

"Not gonna happen, unless he leaves me for another woman." Anne grumbles. It's the first time they're hearing her voice today, and Eleanor chuckles.

"He would be dead in a few minutes, though."

Of course, Anne nods at her words.

"More like  _seconds_."

Their karma is not intimidated by their sour mood, stopping to check each and any baby-related object he could find.

"Wouldn't it be nice if instead of a pregnancy test that will come back negative, we were buying dozens of baby products?" He asks, causing Eleanor to sigh heavily as she crosses her arms and turns around to face him. "Are you  _sure_  you're not, darling? Maybe there could have been some sort of mistake."

"I would have  _never_ , in a million years, thought that you would be so damn crazy for me and Charles to have a baby. What's gotten into you?"

He shrugs, watching as Anne lifted a pacifier in her hand, eyeing it suspiciously.

"It would be good for him. And for you too."

"The time is not right."

As soon as the words leave her mouth, Eleanor regrets them.

"So does that mean I will be an uncle sometime in the near future?"

_Why does she suddenly want to say yes?_

"Dream on."

For some reason, Anne snorts at her words. Her eye roll is automatic.

"But you have to admit it. These tiny bottles are adorable." Jack tries again, grabbing one of the items and showing it to them. Anne looks at it as if it's a disgusting pile of garbage.

"It's bright pink. With hearts  _and_  bunnies." She grumbles through her teeth. Already expecting that answer, Jack grins and grabs another one, of a more neutral color.

"And this one? Doesn't it make you want to have a little bundle in your arms, just a little bit?"

Anne throws him a deadly glare, and Eleanor tries hard not to laugh out loud at the scene.

As the redhead storms out of the drugstore, she shakes her head.

"You're probably going to have to sleep on the armchair for a month now... Or maybe the deck."

"Did you see the look on her face?  _Completely_  worth it."

She allows herself to laugh. This little smile remains on her lips as she and Jack keep looking for the pregnancy tests.

* * *

"What if that thing comes back positive?" Anne asks a few minutes later, when they're making their way back to the harbor.

"It won't."

"Come on. If it does?"

With a heavy sigh, Eleanor shakes her head. "I would just get rid of the embryo. It wouldn't be fair to bring an innocent child into this hell. Not while Woodes is still out there, looking for me. Can you imagine how angry he would be? Killing this child would become his top priority, and the only way out would be to send the baby away with Max as soon as it was born..." To her utter surprise, frustration and anger, her eyes fill with tears at the thought. But she's quick to recover. "I don't  _ever_  want to put a child of ours through this ordeal."

"Have you ever considered that... This could also be the best way to keep you safe from Teach?" She frowns at Jack's question, meeting his eyes briefly. "Let's face it. Right now, there are only two possible outcomes. I don't think it's possible that he will simply wake up one morning and decide to let go of this grudge, especially after what happened back at the headquarters. You know Charles would never allow him to lay a finger on you. I have no doubt he would kill his uncle, in order to protect you. But we all know this would haunt him. He would never be at peace with himself after that."

Lowering her eyes to the sand, Eleanor nods slowly. This is something she's been thinking about almost every night after Charles falls asleep and she's unable to keep her eyes closed for more than a few seconds.

"However... If he finds out you're carrying Charles' baby, I doubt he will still be too intent on killing you. And even after that, I don't know if he would want to hurt the mother of his nephew's child."

"And then what? I will be safe from him, but when my crazed ex-husband finds out..."

"You should know..." Anne interrupts her. It's still strange, not to hear any hostility in her voice.

Not towards her, anyway.

"...if this really happens one day, and if that sadistic bastard finds out, we would never let him get close enough to even see the kid's face. He'd die first."

Eleanor looks over her shoulder, offering her a weak half-smile.

"You don't know him like I do. That  _thing_  is smarter than you give him credit for." Picking up her pace, she does her best to ignore the tears burning in her eyes again. "And losing yet another child is a risk I am  _not_  willing to take."

* * *

He's still getting used to how big the place is.

When they left Somalia, Billy was expecting some little cabin with no more than maybe three bedrooms and a fireplace...

Not the huge, extravagant, four story  _castle_  with endless corridors, balconies and luxurious rooms.

Richard Guthrie must be even wealthier this time around.

But he should have known their new temporary home would be palatial the minute Eleanor announced there was a freaking heliport.

He still remembers Davina's glee. Once her eyes landed on the château she finally stopped crying about her brother and smiled wide, saying they were going to sleep in a castle.

While Abigail laughed and explained to her the difference between this and a real castle, he stayed behind with Mary, both of them gaping.

Abigail seems to be fitting right in; she doesn't look out of place in the rich ambient at all. Unlike the three of them.

Poor Davina already got lost at least three times while playing, and Abigail was the one who found her. She said she came here a few times with Eleanor when they were younger, so she knows every inch of the place.

And she's the only one who's not constantly staring at everything in silent awe. Of course, she's used to this. She never had to survive off garbage in the streets, unlike him and Mary.

For some reason, it warms his heart to think about this. To know that she had a comfortable childhood, and that she's even safer now, away from her rotten father. As long as she's near him, he will make sure she's safe.

_That weird thought again._

His growing affection for the young girl is starting to scare him.

But Billy just can't help it. She's too interesting.

At first, he thought she was nothing but some scared, spoiled girl with a shallow mind. But he's been finding out that there's a whole universe inside her. Whenever they talk, she makes him smile.

She's just so smart. The things she says sometimes... She's always surprising him.

And even though she's clearly naive, she's showing so much maturity when it comes to certain things.

Like the fate of her father.

He's locked up. They saw it on the news last night. Billy had been worried, thinking she would regret her actions or at least shed a tear or two.

But she didn't. She remained impassive, as if Mr. Ashe was nothing to her.

Another surprise. She's so much stronger than he previously thought.

Mary has warned him a few times already. She says it's alarming, the way Abigail looks at him.

And he was completely clueless... Until his cousin mentioned it.

He knows she's right. That soft, adorable blush that comes to the girl's cheeks whenever he smiles at her, whenever he compliments her in any way... How she always seeks him out before bed to say goodnight. The shy glances she steals at him, when she thinks he's not looking.

Maybe it's only natural.

She's young, and probably grew up surrounded by fairytales. Always the same stories, the princess saved by the brave knight.

Maybe that's exactly how she sees him, as one of those knights.

He did save her from a horrible fate, after all. And he knows he's not exactly bad-looking. Of course she'd have a crush on him. Her young heart must be telling her they're soulmates.

He just has to chuckle at the thought, walking the long corridor that led to Abbie's room.

If only she knew that three centuries ago, they locked eyes across a table in the bowels of a huge pirate ship, and she gave him one of those shy, brief smiles.

The whole soulmates thing would only be reinforced.

He wonders if she will ever remember. For some reason, he's curious to know what happened to her.

He just hopes her fate was better than his.

That island flashes in his mind, and his smile falters.

Every single time he feels that darkness lurking, he's scared. The darkness that filled his heart when he changed, when he became such a different person...

He doesn't want to be that person again. He needs to be good, for Davina.

For  _her_ , too.

A frown comes to his face and he stops just in front of her door.

Mary has already made it very clear; if he approaches Abigail in a certain way, she will castrate him.

At least for now, he's "not allowed" to get involved with his new friend. Mary says it could bring problems, and he knows she's right. He's 9 years older than Abigail, she's still underage, and soon, Flint will be at their doorstep to take her back to LA.

His heart clenches.

Abigail has been in contact with a friend of hers, a lawyer she has known since her childhood. The woman was relieved to know she's alright, and more than happy to reassure child protective services that there's no need to raise alarm about her absence from Mr. Ashe's house. She did say, however, that this situation needs to be taken care of urgently.

She's already preparing to help with the emancipation, and if everything goes well, Abigail will be free to go wherever she pleases after that.

He knows full well that after Flint comes to get her, he could never see her again.

The thought bothers him far more than it should.

But why? From the beginning, it was always just him and Mary. Then Davina came along and Billy was sure that these two were everything he would ever need.

Nothing else mattered.  _No one_  else.

Then why does he feel as if this is starting to change?

Many times, he has caught himself thinking about it. He lost sight of this beautiful, sweet girl three hundred years ago, and when he thinks about letting that happen again, there's this strange sense of urgency spreading in his chest.

Maybe he just has a strong protective instinct over her... Or could it be something else?

The idea seems absurd and he scoffs to himself before bringing his hand to the doorknob and turning it.

No, of course he can't be falling for a  _child_...

He only realizes he forgot to knock when it's too late.

"Abbie? Breakfast is ready-"

That pearly white skin catches his eyes immediately and the words die in his throat while he stands there like an idiot.

She's startled, quickly grabbing the nearest shirt and pulling it over her head.

He caught her  _changing_.

Finally recovering, he mumbles a quick apology and averts his eyes, practically slamming the door shut.

This time, he's the one blushing.

His pace is quick as he walks away, passing a portrait of Richard hanging on the wall. When his eyes settle on another one that shows Eleanor's serious face, he almost expects her to jump out of it with murderous eyes and a rope, ready to strangle him to death for what just happened.

But she doesn't, and he could swear those cold, blue-green eyes follow him as he walks.

It's creepy as hell.

Only after he turns a corner, leaving the blonde tyrant's portrait behind, does he allow himself to think about what he saw.

That image is burned in his brain, her exposed stomach... Thankfully, she was already wearing jeans and a bra. But that body...

She's  _not_  a child, he realizes for the first time. She's not a child at all.

And he, well, he's completely  _fucked_.

* * *

Small, nimble fingers touch his abdomen delicately, those exotic eyes glued to the stitches.

"It's looking much better than I expected."

"When can you remove them?"

Max shrugs, examining the wound for a few seconds longer before pulling away.

"In a few days... Maybe only three, if you continue to recover at this pace."

"Think she's gonna go back to treating me normal then?"

His voice is filled with boredom and Max can't help but laugh

"Eleanor is giving you a hard time, isn't she?" He rolls his eyes, sitting on the edge of his desk as she speaks. "She's just worried about you. It's sweet, isn't it a nice change? To have her caring for you so tenderly?"

"She's treating me like a baby."

Raising an eyebrow, Max shakes her head. "Judging by the noises I heard coming from this cabin, the night before that little pregnancy scare... I wouldn't say that."

Charles scoffs briefly, avoiding her eyes and staring at the ladder that led up to deck.

"Look... From what Jack and Anne reported... It was a really huge blow. She was terrified of losing you, she's still scared. That nightmare is still so fresh in her mind... Just be patient with her. This behavior, this excessive care and worry, it's just a proof of how much she loves you. She's finally letting it show. You must be grateful for that."

Max's words make his eyes soften a little. He glances down at his still naked torso, the exposed wound, before looking at her face again.

"You're the one who used to see her the most."

"What?"

"After I was gone. Jack, Anne, even Flint, they all told me tidbits of information. About the person she tried to be. But they didn't see her that often... I feel like I'm staring at an unfinished portrait. Maybe you could help me with that."

This sad look comes to Max's face and she immediately shakes her head. As if that mere thought was too much for her.

"This is a portrait you don't want to see completed... Trust me."

"But I need to."

"So you can torture yourself even further?" Her tone is somewhat scolding and then she sighs, taking a few steps closer and reaching out to touch his arm. "Please... The past is gone. It's all gone, and it won't do you any good to keep thinking about those dark times."

"I just feel strange."

"Strange? Strange how?"

He's avoiding her eyes again, trying to hide. But she just knows there's something deep here.

And her curiosity is too strong.

This man can be just as fascinating as Eleanor sometimes.

"Uncomfortable. That last part of her life was the darkest... And I wasn't there to witness it."

_I wasn't there to save her._

The unsaid words hang in the air and Max sits down on the chair in front of the desk, still looking up at his face.

"And you feel guilty for that. Don't you?"

She expects him to snap and throw her out of the cabin at any second now. But for some reason, he shows no signs of wanting to do so.

"It's so fucking stupid. It makes no sense at all. But I feel bad for being the only one who doesn't know... who hasn't  _seen_  the full extent of the damage that sick bastard has caused."

"It's not stupid. You just care for her a lot. Enough to worry about what happened to her, even after you were long gone."

It seems only then he realizes what's going on, surprised to see how Max has managed to make him open up, so effortlessly.

Shaking his head, he frowns at her.

"How the fuck do you do that?"

A satisfied grin lights up her face.

"It's a gift. Perhaps you could talk a little bit more about those feelings?"

"Thought you were a nurse, not a psychologist."

Her raised eyebrow makes him sigh and clench his jaw briefly.

"Do you know what my last thoughts were? Not the island. Not the pirates. Not the resistance. In those moments, when I looked at her for the last time... There was no love, but there was no anger either. No hatred. Not even resentment."

His words bring a confused frown to her face.

"Then what-"

"I pitied her. For the first and only time ever, I pitied her."

Silence stretches for a while. He only finds sympathy in Max's eyes.

"All those times she came rushing into my tent, doing her best to hide her tears. Whenever Richard hurt her. Whenever she missed her mother. All the pain I saw in her eyes. I  _never_ felt pity for her. Not once. I knew she didn't need it. It was the same way when we found each other again in this new life. She was suffering so much in this new world, and as much as I wanted to make her feel better, I never felt even the slightest bit of pity for her. But that day... That day, for some reason, I did."

"What else did you feel, Vane?"

It's amazing, but he's not even close to snapping. His anger is not increasing.

Quite the opposite, in fact.

She notices it, the way his fists and jaw are starting to relax. The muscles of his arms are not strained anymore.

Surprisingly, she's actually making him calmer with this conversation.

How long has he spent bottling all of this up? He was probably desperate to let this out.

"Deep, huge anguish. Grief. So much grief. I caught myself thinking about what could have been. But I was too hopeless to really care... too..."

"...too  _heartbroken_."

Max only realizes she has finished the sentence for him when he scowls at her. Shaking her head, she gestures for him to continue. "Sorry. Please, go on."

It takes him a few seconds, but he does.

"I knew she was too far gone. I understood what she was doing. Getting rid of the Eleanor we all knew and loved. Now  _that_  killed me. Not the noose."

He's not finished just yet, and she knows it.

"You locked eyes with me for a brief second back then. Just before you hanged. Were you trying to tell me something?"

"I was hoping you would take care of her."

The honest answer comes so swiftly. It catches her off guard, to say the least. She has no idea how to react.

"I see..."

"Just between you and me. You're the only one I would trust enough..." He pauses, clearly regretting what he was about to say already. But knowing it was too late. "...to  _be_ with her, if something ever happened to me, if I was... gone. That was one of my last thoughts. If only I had the habit to talk to unseen Gods, I would have been praying for her to end up with you, back then. At least she would have been safe and loved. I really hoped you would take her away from those sick idiots. Away from  _him_."

She's completely stunned.

Max has absolutely no idea what's gotten into him. She would have never expected such confessions from this man.

And he's not done surprising her.

"Thank you. For taking care of her."

She frowns, shaking her head and letting out a heavy sigh. "I didn't succeed-"

"In this new life, I mean. Before I found her. Thank you for keeping her afloat, for giving her some peace. For being there for her."

Her heart feels warm.

Raising her eyebrows, she offers him a wicked half smirk. "No hard feelings, then? I mean, for all the nights I spent in her bed, and she in mine?"

His dry chuckle makes her smirk widen.

"As I've said before... Of course, the choice would be only hers, but if there's anyone I would want her to move on with, anyone I would trust, in case something ever happened to me... that person is you."

The look on her face softens. She's actually flattered.

But as sweet as this is, there's still something she wants to know.

"Coming from you... that means a lot. Really. But be honest now. That day, when you choked me..."

The corners of his lips twitch up and he nods, confirming her suspicions.

"I was taking my anger out on you, yes. Just to think that you could have her... Jealousy spoke louder, I guess."

Max finds it adorable that he admits it. But she knows that Eleanor is probably the only one who could ever get away with directing that particular word at him.

"Back then, I hated you. You had what I was craving for. But in this new world..." Charles shrugs, sighing briefly. His eyes don't leave hers for a second. "You were her saving grace while I was away. I could never resent you for that."

The words suddenly feel like music to her ears and she smiles at him.

"You see? That's the big difference between you and Rogers. You never saw her as your possession. And you never will."

"If anything, I'm her possession."

His words make her laugh. But then she shakes her head.

"Hmm... I don't think so. You're just two fucked up souls finding completion in each other, time and again." A glint comes to her eyes and she scoffs. "Pretty hard to determine who's the worst one, though."

She's rewarded with a sincere half-smile, and then their moment is broken.

"You better be ready for lunch and your medicine-" That demanding voice fills their ears as the bossy blonde opens the heavy, wooden door, two plastic bags in her hands. Any other words she might have said die in her throat as she stands there frozen, examining the scene before her.

Her lover  _and_  her ex-lover in the same cabin, clearly having just shared a deep conversation, judging by how comfortably Max is sitting on the chair, and the way Charles is leaning against the edge of his desk in front of her.

"What exactly is going on here?"

"His recovery is the most remarkable thing I have ever seen in my two lives, that's what's going on. The stitches are almost ready to be removed." Max explains, winking at the pirate while getting up from the chair. Focusing her attention on Eleanor, she smiles. "I'm honestly surprised."

"Well, I'm not. It's... a Charles thing, really."

"I bet it is."

Giving her a wickedly sarcastic look, Max walks out the door, leaving them alone.

"You two were talking about me, weren't you?" That confused, suspicious frown is still firmly in place as she faces Charles, walking towards the desk.

"Were you eavesdropping? Didn't Caroline ever teach you how rude that is?"

Yeah, she should have been expecting something like that as an answer. Rolling her eyes, Eleanor sets the two plastic bags on the surface of the desk.

"You're insufferable."

"Did you find it? The test?"

The hint of anxiety in his voice makes her grin.

"I did. Look, maybe we should wait for a week or two. If by some strange miracle I am pregnant, even after my period... It's too early, I don't even know if it will be accurate."

"Do it now." He nods at the bags, eyeing them as if there was a snake about to come out and bite him. "Then if you start feeling sick you take another one when we reach Thailand."

She has to bite her lower lip to keep herself from laughing. "You're more terrified than a teenage girl going a through pregnancy scare."

Smiling to herself, she ignores his dark glare and grabs one of the bags again.

Minutes later, when she's calmly staring at a map and sitting on the chair Max had been occupying before, Charles can't keep his eyes off of the small table near the ladder, where the pregnancy test was resting. Eleanor told him they had to wait for a couple of minutes, and he feels ready to kill someone.

"If you're that anxious, go look for yourself. Result should be already showing by now." She says, not taking her eyes off the map.

When he remains frozen behind his desk, she chuckles and gets to her feet.

His eyes follow her as she walks to the small table, grabs the test...

Her smile falls.

"Oh, my  _God_."

"What?"

"I don't understand..."

" _Eleanor_." His voice somehow sounds urgent, angry, nervous and desperate all at the same time.

She meets his eyes.

"There's two lines. That's... a positive result."

His world stops turning all over again.

"You're saying-" Dropping down on the captain's chair, he just gapes at her for a few moments, unable to find his voice. "You're  _pregnant_?"

She looks just as scared, walking over to the desk.

"Give me that thing-" He demands, snatching the test from her trembling hands as soon as she's close enough so he could see that damned result for himself...

And coming face to face with one, lonely line.

_One_.

His eyes move from the stick to her face. She bursts out laughing.

"You should have seen your face! I should have filmed it. How I wish Mary could have seen it too."

Charles just stares at her in bored silence, waiting until her laughing fit was over.

He just can't believe she fooled him like that.

"Are you done?" He asks once she calms down, rolling his eyes.

Although he has to admit it's still a beautiful sight, to see her laughing like that.

"I couldn't help myself. And I'm not sorry." She hands the other plastic bag to him. He does  _not_  like the evil glint in her eyes. "These are yours, here you go."

As soon as he takes a look inside the bag, his face contorts into a grimace.

"What the fuck-"

"It will take a while for the pills to start working properly again. In the meantime..."

She gestures at the bag containing the various condom packages, taking evil pleasure in the horrified look on his face.

"Hate those things." He practically spits the words out, his voice filled with indignation. "I only ever used them with whores and one night stands, not with Mary, not with  _you_ \- They feel uncomfortable as  _fuck_."

Sarcasm shines in her eyes as Eleanor tilts her head to the side, feigning pity.

"Oh, you poor,  _poor_  thing... Don't make me shed a tear." After grabbing her jacket, she heads to the ladder. "And what makes you think I like the pills? They take a toll on my body, in case you didn't know."

He's still scowling at her when she turns around with a wicked smile.

"It's either ' _those things_ ' and me, or your hand. You decide."

Just like that, she's gone.

His eyes stay glued to the ladder for a few seconds, then he stares down at the plastic bag again.

A groan leaves his lips.

Three hundred years later, and she is still the most  _infuriating_  woman in the world...

He wouldn't have her  _any_  other way.

* * *

At least his office was untouched by the fire.

He would have hated to lose all those important souvenirs.

All his memories, of the places he visited.

The smell of burnt wood fills his nostrils. It's not nearly as sickening as the burnt flesh of those who perished.

The second he arrived back at his kingdom and saw the chaos, his fears were confirmed. And when he glanced at the harbor and saw no signs of his nephew's ship, he knew that  _she_  had bested him once again.

It was worse than he imagined.

Two ships, completely destroyed.

_And the building..._

Since the underground is mostly made of stone, the fire didn't spread too much. But most of their cargo was lost.

The biggest problem was their cover. The explosions caused too much damage and most of it will have to be rebuilt.

Not to mention all the men he has lost, over 60% of his original army. Burials are taking place behind the safe house, but he has no wish to attend any of them.

The child, she's gone too. Read's adoptive daughter, that spirited little girl who reminded him so much of Charles.

That little girl he was beginning to get attached to. His nephew's sister.

There's a voice trying to whisper in his ear that it's all his fault. If only he had not tried to shoot the snake that fateful day... He should have known better, he should have known Charles would find a way to push her out of harm's way.

_Literally._

But he doesn't want to believe it. To believe that he nearly caused his nephew's death.

So he pushes the guilt aside and focuses on other feelings.

Like the anger for having all of his plans destroyed.

He waited for 30 years. 30 long years to have his boy back. To have him here, as his heir. And then  _she_  came along and ruined everything like she always does.

That viper... Where in the word has she led them now? Not only did she crawl her way back into Charles' heart, now she even has Jack wrapped around her finger. Soon enough, she will probably have an ally in Bonny too, he's certain.

This must be black magic.

After everything she did, she's still thriving. Getting everything she wants.

Did she find a way to manipulate even karma itself?

With a heavy sigh, the giant drops down to his chair. There's nothing he can do about her for now. He has too much on his hands as it is.

His kingdom needs him.

His clenched fist suddenly connects with the surface of the desk with a loud bang.

If he already hated that girl before, now he wants to see her shredded to pieces.

_One day, he will._

* * *

Charles can see he's having a good time.

Making his way to the helm, he tries not to roll his eyes at Flint's raised chin.

He's been at the helm for hours, it's starting to get dark and they should be arriving at Phuket tomorrow.

His own fingers are itching to touch the spokes, to take over. They have been at sea for over two weeks now and he hasn't steered  _his_ ship even once.

_She_  refuses to let him.

But he can see that Flint is enjoying it. He probably missed doing this. That huge cruise ship must be a lot different from the good old wooden ones.

The older man gives him a brief look when he comes to a stop by his side, and Charles tries not to smirk.

Ever since that pregnancy scare, he's been acting a little strange.

Almost like a jealous father.

Of course, this could also have something to do with the fact that his cabin is really close to the captain's quarters. Close enough for him to hear what Charles does to his precious girl in the dead of night.

Not that she's letting him do too much work, lately. This is starting to piss him off too.

"We'll probably be there by dawn." He announces with a bored voice, focusing back on the horizon. "Let her know about it. I know she's eager to get to Thailand."

"She feels we'll be safer. But I'm not so sure."

Flint casts a quick glance his way. "You need to start asking around and investigating as soon as we reach dry land. Someone must know how to get to that island."

"Jack has a bad feeling about it. He thinks there's something shady about that place. It's strange that everyone avoids talking about it, there must be something taking place in there, and he's betting on illegal cultivation..." He pauses to light a cigarette, shaking his head briefly. "I think he's watching too many movies."

"Keep your guard up anyway, if you let anything happen to her..." Watching the cigarette suspiciously, Flint narrows his eyes. "Thought you weren't allowed to smoke."

He just shrugs, blowing out some smoke and bringing the cigarette back to his lips.

But before he gets the chance to complete the motion, there's a scream of his name coming from below deck. From the captain's quarters, more specifically.

Instantly reminded about that incident with the Spaniard, Charles tosses the cigarette overboard and throws the hatch door behind the helm open.

The older man looks over his shoulder, watching him disappear below deck. When there's no signs of any serious danger, he rolls his eyes and goes back to staring at the horizon.

* * *

He's too quick to go down the ladder, and a wince of pain leaves his lips against his will.

His eyes scan every single inch of the cabin... And Charles can't believe what he sees.

Eleanor is near the door, pressing her back to the wall, her wide eyes glued to the desk. He was expecting a huge, poisonous snake.

All he sees is a spider crawling on the wood.

"Really?" He meets that terrified pair of blue-green eyes, and even though she's clearly scared, she still glares at him.

"Don't stand there, you idiot! Get rid of it!"

Raising an eyebrow, he walks over to the desk and lets the critter crawl on his hand. It must be about the size of his palm, with long legs, hairy and black.

He just examines it for a while, watching in interest as it starts to move up his arm.

"What the  _hell_  are you doing? Throw it in the fucking ocean already!"

Meeting her eyes for a moment, Charles sighs heavily.

"Sorry. But believe me, death is a much better fate than being stuck with her." He says to the critter, walking over to one of the windows so he could do as his queen requested.

She's glaring daggers at him when he looks over at her again.

"Get me the ropes, then. That could  _easily_  be arranged."

It's adorable, how she pushes off the wall and heads to the desk, trying to act as if nothing had happened, so her reputation wouldn't be compromised.

But it's too late and only now she's realizing how much she has over-reacted.

Charles has this stupid half smirk on his face and she wants to slap it away.

"I would have never guessed, in a million years... that a woman like  _you_  would be scared of a little spider."

Her eyes widen in pure outrage.

"Excuse me? Did you see the  _size_  of that thing? How did it get here anyway?"

"Must have crawled in back at Somalia. Seems like we had a stowaway."

"You mean that thing was here in our cabin with us the whole time?"

He's searching every dark corner of the place, probably making sure there weren't any other spiders, but he pauses to offer her a teasing look. "How do you feel, knowing we had a voyeur? Who knows, maybe it even crawled all over your face while you slept."

He notices the way she shudders, and it's absolutely priceless.

"You're  _not_  funny."

Done with his search, he walks closer and pulls her to him, moving to lean against the edge of the desk.

"It's called karma, honeypot. You thought you were so smart, scaring me with that damn test. You should have known that was going to come back to bite you in the ass sooner or later."

She narrows her eyes at him. Her fingers start playing with his hair on their own accord. "You better not think you'll have the last laugh."

His barely perceptible smirk grows and he kisses her briefly.

"Game on, then."

His whispered words send shivers down her spine. And then she suddenly remembers it. "You know who else was scared of spiders?"

There's some contempt in her eyes, blending with amusement, so it doesn't take too long until the answer comes to him.

"You're  _kidding_."

Shaking her head, she twists her fingers around a few strands of his hair, unable to stop smirking

"One night, this freaky, huge one showed up in our room. He was just as terrified as I was, and I couldn't believe it. Our servant, a woman, had to get rid of it for us."

"He's even more useless than I thought, then."

A sudden glint comes to her eyes and she splays her hands over his chest. "At least I have a real knight to protect me from those critters now."

It doesn't take even a second for Eleanor to grimace at her own words. "God, that was utterly ridiculous. What's going on with me?"

His chuckle is more than enough to wash away her frustration, and her smile comes back as he brushes her hair behind her ear.

"Whatever it is, I like this new side of you."

"Then enjoy it while you can. I won't let it show too often."

She tries to step away from him, but his arms only tighten around her waist.

"So the almighty governor is scared of spiders... Maybe we could use that to our advantage someday."

They allow themselves to just laugh, not caring about who might hear it or not.

And minutes later he's attacking her lips with his. To see her laughing like that will always be weak spot of his.

Any thoughts about spiders and ex-husbands simply vanish from Eleanor's mind as he walks her backwards in the direction of their bunk.

They miss dinner that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The conversation between Charles and Max got a little bit long, I know, but I've been waiting to write this interaction between them for a while now :P
> 
> And originally, I was going to end the chapter right after that scene with Teach, this whole last part is completely pointless but the spider thing came to me in a dream last night, and I just couldn't help myself, I had to write it down lol.


	34. In Another Life

**_Nassau, Bahamas_ **

**_Three hundred years ago_ **

_That clenched jaw should be enough to intimidate him._

_But after everything he has already seen here, and the muffled cries of agony he's been hearing for the last few hours..._

_He just wants to put an end to this._

_"You made me leave my bedchambers in the middle of my nuptial night... for this?" He bangs his fist against the door of the cell, immediately silencing the agonizing creature inside._

_"She's in too much pain, sir. The cut on her leg, it's too deep and the bleeding has yet to stop fully. She needs some medical attention."_

_That scoff of contempt is already familiar by now, and he lowers his eyes to the floor as the governor turns his back to him._

_"Do **not**  disturb me and my wife again. This is our night and we want to make the most of it." The arrogant voice echoes through the cold, stone corridor as he walks away. "Just let the pain kill her, she's nothing but a useless pest anyway. Since when do you care for those savages?"_

_The question is left unanswered, and he soon finds himself alone in front of the door again. There's a faint "fucking asshole" from inside the cell, and his lips twitch up involuntarily for a second, but then he regains his composure._

_"I will let that one slip, but if you disrespect the governor again-" A dry, humorless laugh cuts him off._

_"What? He'll kill me? Thought that was already in the schedule."_

_A scowl comes to his face._

_He doesn't answer._

_There's nothing but silence for what feels like hours, and each time those muffled moans of pain reach his ears, his heart tightens._

_Finally, after a whimpered "fuck" from the woman in the cell, he leaves his post._

_Only to come back minutes later with a bottle of rum. It was practically full, he got it from one of the sleeping guards._

_After making sure there was no one else in the corridor, the lieutenant unlocks that heavy door._

_The sight of her makes him pause._

_She's covered in sweat, her tired eyes filled with pain, and yet she somehow still manages to give him this sarcastic look._

_Her clothes are torn, and there's a puddle of blood beneath her chained leg._

_The nasty wound makes him grimace._

_"Sorry 'bout the mess..." She seethes, and he notices the way she tries to move away, even though she already has her back to the wall._

_She probably thinks he will hurt her. He can't really blame her._

_Approaching her carefully as one does a wounded animal, he watches her closely._

_An interesting young woman. Strong, so different than the ones he's used to seeing. She has a sharp tongue, and even with that handprint on her right cheek, she still looks imposing as hell._

_That was courtesy of Rogers._

_When she was captured and brought to him, he treated her with scorn and she didn't think twice before spitting right into his face._

_He was stunned for a second, but then his response was to slap her hard, splitting her lip in the process._

_She **laughed.**_

_She laughed and spit again, but this time it was blood instead of saliva._

_The governor was absolutely outraged by this behavior, and everyone present at the mansion watched in silence as he delivered a swift kick to the girl's stomach._

_Eleanor chose that time to appear, and he still remembers how she paused in the middle of the staircase, staring down at the scene with a horrified look on her face._

_She was still just the governor's fiancée back then, this happened three days ago._ _He's sure she felt reluctant about the upcoming wedding that day._

_But when she tried to intervene, when she made a move to go check up on the other woman, one look from her future husband was all it took to make her stop and lower her eyes to the floor._

_She didn't even get the chance to see their new prisoner's face, before the redcoats took her away._

_Days later, just a few hours before the wedding, Rogers came to the cell to speak to the pirate. He had a sharp blade with him, and the lieutenant was forced to listen as he cut a gash on the girl's leg, as punishment for her disrespect._

**_As if death wasn't enough already..._ **

_Stopping right in front of her, he extends his arm, offering the bottle of rum. She eyes it suspiciously._

_"What are you doing?"_

_Letting out a heavy sigh, he brings the offered bottle closer to her face. "Just accept it. These are your last hours of life, I figured you wouldn't want to spend them in agonizing pain."_

_She stares at him as if he just grew a second head. There are a few emotions in her eyes, and he recognizes a brief flash of gratitude._

_But then she's smirking sarcastically, finally grabbing the bottle from his hands. "Well, thank you, respectable, civilized man. But I must say I hate to drink alone, so maybe you could keep me company?"_

_He scoffs, but then sadness flickers in her eyes and when he notices it, he's already sitting down on the cold stone floor. Still keeping a safe distance just in case._

_Her dark moss green eyes stay glued to his, and he can't help but notice how beautiful her hair is._

_Dark brown, wavy, somehow still glossy even while it's covered in dirt._

_Not to mention her athletic figure._

_All in all, she's absolutely gorgeous._

_If only circumstances were different..._

_"So young." He suddenly says, after almost two hours of peaceful, silent drinking. "So beautiful. A whole life ahead of you. Why couldn't you just accept the pardon?"_

_Her eyes fill with contempt._

_"And become a slave? No, thanks. It's not worth it." Her words are slurred but he hears the strength in her voice. "They think they're the best. You civilized assholes, the lot of you. With your hypocrisy, your stupid laws. Let me tell you something; at least among thieves, there is honor. This is the only life I've ever known, I won't give it up, not now, not ever. They may hang me tomorrow, but guess what..."_

_Her eyes glint with unshed tears when she says the next few words, and there's so much emotion in her voice. She nearly chokes. "...they **can't**  hang us all."_

_A lone tear rolls down her cheek, and she's quick to hide her face from his view, one hand flying up to wipe the moisture away._

_"You sound like a pirate who was hanged here a while ago. A very important one."_

_Her face lights up. A huge smile graces her perfect, full lips._

_"Charles Vane... My inspiration, my hero. I mourned his death... Meeting him was one of my biggest dreams, but it wasn't possible. A pity... We would have been unstoppable together, I'm sure." She snatches the bottle from his hands, not even wincing in pain. The alcohol must have numbed most of her senses by now._

_It's a relief, actually. He's happy to see her smiling, instead of whimpering in agony._

_"Maybe in another life, we will meet."_

_Her drunk, distant voice makes him chuckle and shake his head._

_"I'm afraid you only live once."_

_She grimaces, lifting a finger in the air. "Something tells me that's not true. I'll meet captain Vane and rub it in your face one day, lieutenant."_

_They laugh together at the drunk affirmation, and only then he starts to realize something._

_"You're clearly devoted to this fallen pirate, you're young... Surely you would want to do something stupid, all alone, to avenge his death. Surely, you know who has played such an important role in his destruction." Her eyes meet his again. She raises her chin. "You came here to kill the governor's wife."_

_Her jaw clenches._

_"Bitch should get what she deserves."_

_Two more tears roll down her cheeks. She gulps down a generous amount of the rum._

_"I failed anyway. I'm here, all fucked up, while she's in a warm bed, safe. In her holy savior's arms, thinking she'll live happily ever after. She could be with Captain Vane right now. I hope her new husband is awful in bed, just so her regret will be stronger."_

_He doesn't know what to say._

_"What's your name?" The question simply slips from his lips. The pirate seems just as surprised as he is._

_"Mary. And you?"_

_"Mary. A beautiful name. You should be proud. And as for me, I believe you have already heard my name around here."_

_She chuckles drily, focusing on the bottle in her hand. "I've heard your title. But what's your name, lieutenant Utley?"_

_It's been so long. So long since the last time he told someone his first name._

_"Well?"_

_Sighing heavily, he straightens up._

_"Elijah."_

_She smiles._

_"Elijah." Testing the name on her tongue, she hands the bottle to him. "It suits you. At least I can tell you a proper goodbye tomorrow, when you take me to the noose."_

_He tried hard to ignore the sudden pain in his heart, taking a swig and giving the bottle back to her, then watching as she drinks more of the alcohol. The deep look in her eyes when she stares at his face again surprises him._

_"You're different. Different from the others."_

_"Different how?"_

_"You're good... You don't destroy." All the sarcasm vanishes from her features. "You **don't**  want to destroy... Do you?"_

_It feels strange. This deep bond that forms between them as they stare into each other's eyes._

_But then he gets to his feet._

_"I need to go back to my post. Once dawn comes, I will bring your last meal and a priest, so you can repent for your sins, if you wish to do so."_

_Her laughter lights up his soul._

_"Yeah, that's going to happen!" She shakes her head, still laughing. All the previous bitterness is gone when she meets his eyes again. "Just get out of here, lieutenant."_

_He obeys._

_And minutes fly by, half an hour, an hour, an hour and a half..._

_Until the first lights of dawn start to invade those dark corridors._

_Mary has been silent since the moment he left the cell._

_He can't see her._

_He doesn't want to see her._

_He **will**  need to see her in a short while, when she's hanging by her neck, her lifeless body swinging..._

_She must be around 17 years old..._

_His Olivia was the same age, when she died._

_His sister, a decade younger than him. She died during childbirth five months ago._

_She couldn't even muster up the strength to name her newborn daughter._

_Olivia just looked into his eyes, offering him the ghost of a smile... Then he was forced to watch as life left her body, the bloody newborn in his arms screaming at the top of her lungs._

_His sister was gone._

_And all he had left of her was the baby._

_The baby he tried so damn hard to take care of. He promised that little girl all the love, care and happiness in the world._

_But fate had other plans._

_Plans that involved taking his little nameless niece to heaven too soon, so she could join her mother._

_He just can't forget it. That painful morning when he woke up... The house was too silent, it was strange. He was getting used to waking up to the cries of his little girl._

_She looked like a porcelain doll when he reached the small crib._

_So delicate. So pale. So cold._

**_Unmoving._ **

_The skin that was once so soft, felt hard like stone under his fingertips, and for the first time in his whole life, he cried._

_He cried like a child, holding that small, hard and cold body to his chest._

_Sometime between that breakdown and the burials, Elijah died and lieutenant Utley was born._

_There was nothing left for him._

_But right now... When he's standing guard in front of this door, it feels as if he's connecting with his former self again._

_It's almost like his Olivia is right in front of him again, urging him to do the right thing..._

_He **knows**  what he has to do._

_Mary is passed out, lying down on a cold bed made of hard stone when he unlocks the cell again._

**_One hour..._ **

_One hour before it begins, one hour before she's standing there in front of the mansion with a noose around her neck._

_He can't allow it._

_He **won't**  allow it._

_She's young, she's fierce, and she needs to **live.**_

_There's not a drop of rum left in the bottle, and he curses under his breath before rushing to the still form. After freeing her leg from the chains, he gathers her in his arms._

_She's so light, and he carefully makes his way through the corridors. The sight Elijah is greeted with when he emerges from the interior of the fort makes him scoff. Every single guard is passed out, there are empty bottles everywhere._

_The celebrations for the governor's wedding were certainly wild._

_And he can take advantage of this._

_There are a few horses tied near the entrance of the fort, and he does his best to lead the strongest one out that large door while still holding the unconscious pirate in his arms._

_He needs to throw some cold water on her face, once they're outside._

_She wakes up with a start._

_"The fuck-" Taking a look around, Mary clenches her jaw. "No need for further torture, the noose-"_

_"Listen very carefully." He interrupts her, grabbing her right shoulder with one hand and the horse's reins with the other. "I don't care what you do, I don't care where you go, just put as much distance as you possibly can between yourself and this island. Forget your fallen hero, forget everything, just promise me you will escape."_

_Her eyes are filled with confusion, but she's quick to catch up. Giving him a barely perceptible nod, Mary lets him help her up on the horse, her injured leg protesting._

_"The harbor. Ships leave every morning, just find a way to sneak into one of them, travel as a stowaway." He instructs, and she stares into his eyes for a moment._

_Then his sudden slap to the horse's rump makes the animal gallop away._

_Mary looks at him over her shoulder one last time. Her laughter drifts off in the wind, and for the first time since Olivia's death, he smiles for real._

* * *

**Nassau, Bahamas**

**Present days**

"Don't disturb anyone, alright? If you want to eat or drink anything, let me know and I'll buy it for you."

"When can we go home, uncle Elijah?" The little girl asks and he smiles tenderly, ruffling her hair.

"When everyone else does. My job is to make sure these people won't hurt each other, and to keep bad guys outside."

She nods, and he takes a moment to thank the heavens for his niece's obedience.

They're still getting settled, Olivia is still looking for a job, and she was so stressed today that he convinced her to go out and enjoy the nightlife. After arguing with him a lot, she finally agreed.

Ever since Melissa was born, his twin has been dedicating her life to taking care of the child. It was about time she had a break. But unfortunately, they have yet to find a nanny they trust enough. That's why he brought Melissa to the tavern with him tonight.

They're probably too overprotective of her, but he has always felt as if he needs to do his very best when it comes to keeping his two girls safe. There's this strange anguish inside him from times to times, and the fear to lose them becomes so intense. It scares him.

"What if I get sleepy, uncle Elijah?" With a sigh, he takes a look around. His eyes settle on the big double doors.

He had seen the office when Scott gave him the job, and he knows there's a bed in there.

"We'll just take care of that when the time comes, okay?"

She seems perfectly fine with that, going back to staring at the menu in her hands.

Then giving him those puppy eyes that always disarm him completely.

"Can I have some ice cream and soda?"

It's her strange addiction, the one that always drives his sister insane.

After feigning a stern look for a second, he chuckles.

"As long as you don't tell your mother."

"Pinky swear!"

He's fully aware of all those grown men staring in scorn as he intertwines his finger with his niece's, and he doesn't give a fuck about them. This little girl and her happiness will always come first.

In the couple of hours that follow, he somehow manages to keep an eye on the drunken men, on the entrance of the tavern  _and_  on Melissa.

She's been sitting at a table in the corner, alone, entertaining herself with games on the tablet he gave her.

It's amazing how happier she's been, ever since they moved here. It was definitely the right decision.

He's been in touch with Eleanor, they share texts every morning, but it's strictly professional. Even while she's away, she wants to know exactly what's going on in her establishment. How many drunken fights occur, if anyone breaks anything, how many idiots try to cause trouble. It's part of his job to give her a full report of how the night went, every single morning.

His new boss is strict. That's for certain.

But she's still  _far_  better than Woodes.

At least she seems to genuinely care for his well-being, and she has even shown interest in meeting Melissa, when she finally comes back to the island.

She's  _human_.

Glancing at the little girl again, he smiles softly. She's yawning a lot, rubbing her eyes, and it's getting harder and harder for her to focus on the tablet.

So he walks over to her table and tells her to follow him before leading her to the counters where the man in charge was.

"I had to bring her to work with me, I don't have a nanny yet."

Scott's eyes soften as soon as he sees the little girl.

"It's perfectly fine. But she seems tired."

"It's way past her bedtime. I was wondering if..."

He trails off, not wanting to overstep any limits, but the older man just smiles at him. "Of course. The office is empty and I'm sure Eleanor wouldn't mind."

While taking care of the tavern, this very same man is so serious. So imposing. It's amazing how quickly he has changed into a gentle, loving person when faced with a child.

He must be a great father.

"What's your name, little one?"

She's shy and unsure what to do, looking up at her uncle's face. But in the end, it seems she decides to like him.

"I'm Melissa."

His smile widens. "That's a beautiful name you got, huh? There's a comfy bed in the office, would you like to go lie down?"

Another long yawn escapes, answering the question for her.

Minutes later, when Elijah is closing the double doors behind him, Scott seems ready to leave, as usual.

His shift ends at 11 p.m., and then his daughter comes to replace him. He's already used to how things work around here.

"You said you don't have a nanny yet. Why is that?" He asks while waiting for Madi, and Elijah shrugs.

"We couldn't find anyone we trust enough. When it comes to Melissa... My sister and I are overprotective."

Scott chuckles, nodding at his words.

"Trust me. I know exactly what you mean. I raised two beautiful girls myself, and their well being, their safety, was always my top priority. So I understand how hard it is to trust anyone else with something so important. But in case you're interested..." He pulls out his phone, then scrolls through his contacts. "I know a woman who's just perfect for the job. A natural with children, loving, gentle, with a heart bigger than the ocean itself. If you want, I can give you her number."

His interest is definitely piqued and he nods.

"What's her name?"

A soft smile plays on the older man's lips.

"Her name is Caroline. And believe me, she's the best nanny you can possibly find."

* * *

_**Los Angeles** _

_**7 years ago** _

_Adrenaline flows through their veins._

_He meets her eyes briefly, and they feel absolutely **unstoppable**  in this moment._

_Looking at the backseat, she laughs._

_Two bags filled with money. Definitely a good night._

_When he stops the car in a shady alley, she smiles wickedly._

_Mary is on his lap in less than a second, kissing his lips, his hands squeezing her ass and urging her impossibly closer._

_These moments are the highlights of her life. She lives for the adrenaline, the craziness, all the **fire**  this man has to offer._

_She's so happy she decided to go to the Demeter that night, months ago. He caught her eye as soon as he arrived. That long hair, that savage atmosphere. He had a gorgeous, natural redhead by his side, both of them dressed in leather, and they looked like the most powerful couple in the world._

_At least she thought they were a couple._

_But when she saw him kissing another woman right in front of the redhead, a huge smile came to her lips._

_Of course she approached him._

_Of **course**  she ended up in his bed later in the night._

_And damn it, he was the best she ever had. It seems he liked her too, since he broke his strict one night stand policy for her._

_She's practically one of them by now. Working with him, Anne and Jack, wreaking havoc in the city and living life to the fullest._

_Stealing, drinking, smoking, partying, fighting, fucking, winning, never losing, cheating. It's the way they live. And she's enjoying it as much as she possibly can._

_Police sirens can be heard in the distance as she digs her nails into his arms, feeling the hard muscles moving under his skin._

_Breaking their kiss as the sounds starts getting louder and louder, he stares into her eyes, challenging her silently._

_It's their little reckless game, the one that makes Jack livid._

_They just wait, to see who gives in to the fear of getting caught first, as the respectable men of the law get closer and closer..._

_This time, she loses._

_"Drive!"_

_Hastily leaving Charles' lap and returning to the passenger's seat, she laughs out loud._

_Butterflies fill her stomach as he speeds up through the streets, and the smirk on his lips when their eyes meet only makes her laugh even harder._

_She feels powerful._

_Together, they are unstoppable._

* * *

**Bavarian Alps**

**Present days**

If someone saw her then and now, they would take a long while to recognize her.

She's older now, and motherhood has forced her to mature a lot.

Her hair is a bit shorter, but still glossy and wavy. Her eyes look calmer, and she's standing in the balcony of a fancy chateau with a cup of hot cocoa in her hands.

Definitely the opposite of the woman she was years ago... In  _parts_.

Even though she's changed a lot, even though she tries to be a better person for her adoptive daughter, Mary knows that deep down, her essence remains intact.

Her rebellious nature. Her thirst for freedom, that lust for life and the certainty that she will never ever lower her fucking head to  _anyone_.

She may be a mother now, but she's one hell of a badass mother.

And if anyone ever dares to mess with her little girl, she'll show them just how much of a killing machine she can still be.

Sighing softly to herself, she takes a drink of the hot beverage.

There's something bothering her. She's been having strange dreams again.

Not about her newborn baby being taken away from her this time. For the past two nights, she's been dreaming about a man.

She sees herself in a dark room with walls made of stone, this guy dressed in red in front of her, they're sharing a bottle of rum.

He's gentle with her. He eases her pain.

He's  _different_.

She can't remember what they were talking about. But she remembers his features perfectly.

And this is exactly what's bothering her.

She has read somewhere that people can only dream of faces they have seen before. But she's certain she never saw that man in her life. She would remember him, his features were too unique.

In that dream, with him, she felt safe. She felt as if she was finding something important, something that was lost, and now that she had finally found it, she had to grasp it tightly with both hands.

It makes no sense at all.

Why does she want to see him again?

In dreams, in real life...

Does he even exist?

_Elijah._

His name, she remembers.

Mary has the feeling she was such a younger, less mature version of herself in those strange dreams...

Then why does it even matter?

Finishing her hot cocoa, she stares off into the horizon, a scowl refusing to leave her face.

Maybe she should stop drinking.

* * *

He's admiring her perfect face when there's a knock on the door.

"Come in."

Max walks into the cabin, closing the door behind her. He stares at the bag in her hand for a moment before meeting her eyes.

She frowns, gesturing at the thin sheet covering him up to his chest.

"Are you decent down there?"

Rolling his eyes, he does his best to sit up without disturbing Eleanor's sleep.

"Might want to turn around or cover your eyes for a few seconds."

Smirking at the sleep-ragged voice, Max follows his advice, turning her back to the bunk and waiting until he was done.

When she turns back around, he's wearing a pair of sweatpants and sitting on the edge of the bunk.

"Ready to get rid of those stitches?"

"I've been ready since we left Somalia."

Chuckling quietly, she makes her way to the bunk. "Well, it would not have been a pretty sight now, would it? That gaping wound on your stomach. Not to mention the blood stains on your blankets."

The corners of his lips twitch up and they both look over at Eleanor as she mumbles something in her sleep and turns her back to them, moving closer to the wall.

Most of her naked body is exposed to their eyes, and Charles doesn't seem to have a problem sharing the nice view with Max.

It wouldn't make any sense to hide it from her eyes, anyway.

"You might feel an uncomfortable pressure." The nurse begins, sitting on the bunk in from of him. "But it probably won't hurt. If there's any pain, let me know immediately. Alright?"

He just nods, and she gets to work.

"I sterilized the tools back in Jack and Anne's cabin, just so you know."

"I don't care."

She scoffs at the blunt response, not taking her eyes off of the task at hand.

"Of course you don't."

They remain in silence after that, and he watches as she works with practiced ease.

Once done, Max does a double check to make sure everything's okay.

"You should be fine from now on."

"So can you  _please_  tell your former lover that it's safe for me to be on top again?"

She has to laugh at the hint of desperation in his voice.

"Well, since you asked so nicely."

The ghost of a smirk comes to his lips, and then the sleeping blonde moves again. This time rolling over so she was closer to him, ending up lying on her side. Her hands touch his thigh, as if her body naturally seeks his, even in sleep.

And they both hear the mumbled " _Charles_ " that leaves her lips.

He'll definitely tease her about this later, but for now he's rendered speechless.

"Isn't she just the most annoying, gorgeous,  _amazing_  thing you have ever laid eyes on?" He asks in a quiet voice moments later, when they're both still staring at the sleeping beauty. "The most unique human being, fucked up in the most  _perfect_  way possible?"

A warm smile plays on Max's lips as she reaches to brush a strand of blonde hair away from her former lover's face, letting her hand linger to caress her cheek.

"Yeah... She certainly is. She's a pearl, this one. Too rare. And miraculous in her own way. Able to rise from the ashes whenever and wherever there's nothing but hopelessness. Her father abandoned her, broken down and alone in that place... She should have perished. And yet, she still thrived."

Looking away from Eleanor's peaceful face and meeting Charles' eyes again, she chuckles. "We're  _lucky_  to have her, you know."

The only response she gets is a half smirk.

It's already enough.

After moving to press a kiss to Eleanor's cheek, she gets to her feet.

"Get some more sleep. You need it. Dawn has yet to come."

He watches as she leaves the cabin.

His beautiful angel sighs softly in her sleep and for what's probably the 1000th time in this new life, he feels like the  _luckiest_  man in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was I too cruel to Utley? Probably, right?
> 
> Every time I see his face in the show, I can't help but think he has this melancholic air to him... Maybe it's just my imagination lol. But I always felt like there was tragedy in his past.
> 
> I'm so so so sorry! It's been over a month, I know. I had the chapters written but couldn't find the time to read them again and post them. College has been chaotic. But here, five chapters in the same day, enjoy! ;)


	35. Phuket

Minutes go by as she stares up at the wooden ceiling.

Charles' breathing is steady, and when she looks at his stomach a frown comes to her face. His stitches are gone. Max must have paid him a little visit while she was asleep.

It's such a profound relief, to see that nasty wound finally healed. She's still worried about the unseen damage made inside his body, of course, but this is a lot of progress.

He also has this small, round scar on his back, since the bullet went all the way through. Thinking about this, Eleanor shudders involuntarily.

She could have lost him all over again.

This is a thought that won't leave her alone. She constantly catches herself wondering what she would have done, had he died. And she has absolutely no idea how desperate she would have been without him, how deeply this loss would have hurt her.

Thank God, she didn't have to find out.

With a tight half smile, she presses a kiss to his forehead and then carefully crawls over his legs. Still completely naked, she walks over to one of the windows and stares at the ocean until her phone buzzes on the desk.

The minute she sees Madi's name on the caller ID, an unpleasant feeling settles in the pit of her stomach.

Frowning, she answers the call, already thinking something must have gone wrong at the tavern.

First, her sister asks about her, about Charles, and she narrows her eyes in suspicion. After saying they were both fine, she tells Madi to just get down to business already.

_"Something happened to our father the other day."_

Every time she hears this girl say " _our father_ ", her heart flutters. And she always does her best to ignore it.

"Is it something concerning his health? If so, let me know right now and I will turn this ship around so we can sail back home, Woodes be damned."

Remembering the time when she finally learned about his death, she grips the phone tighter without even realizing it.

This man is too important. Even more in this life, their bond is so much stronger and much more pure this time. Losing him would probably be almost as painful as losing the sleeping idiot she sees when she glances at the bunk.

_"Dad's perfectly fine. It's something else."_

Breathing out in relief, she walks to the desk, eyes glued to Charles.

"What happened, then?"

Madi hesitates on the other side of the line, and she clenches her jaw.

_"He doesn't want you to know-"_

"Then it's probably important. Tell me already."

She's been awake for less than ten minutes, and all her patience for the day has already vanished. This whole situation is making her even more stressed than usual.

_"A certain someone showed up on the island. Asking about you."_

Her eyes fall closed, her free hand balling up into a tight fist. The deadly anger present in her voice when she speaks is a surprise even to her.

"If that bastard laid a finger on Scott, it will be  _me_  searching the seven seas for him."

_"He didn't touch dad. But he found the tavern, and he seemed hell bent on finding you, he asked for any clues on your whereabouts. Dad told him the same story Max came up with, just as you instructed. He wasn't too happy; the Eurydice stayed in that port near the tavern for three days, right on the spot the Ranger usually occupies. We're sure he found out more about your ship, so I wanted to warn you."_

Letting out a heavy sigh, Eleanor rubs her forehead. Suddenly, she notices that a certain pair of deep, blue eyes are now open and watching her body language closely...

Scratch that, watching her  _body_  closely.

With an eye roll, she gets to her feet and grabs her bathrobe from the dresser nearby, effectively hiding her naked skin and ruining Charles' fun.

"Is he gone now?" She asks, glaring at her lover to let him know she's not in the mood for any games while making her way back to the captain's chair.

_"He left the island last morning. And before you ask, yes, he still had Low with him."_

"How exactly do you know that?"

In truth, Eleanor already knows the answer. But she needs to confirm her suspicions.

_"Because the other night that psycho left the Eurydice and came to the tavern for a drink... Actually, dozens of drinks. Dad and I couldn't just send him away, of course, so we played the role of welcoming hosts. It was hard. He kept sneering at us all the time, and as the night progressed, as he got drunker and drunker, he started to suggest some stuff about the tavern's absent owner."_

She has to scoff, already feeling her blood boil at the thought.

_"He said a few words to some of your customers. About how you were once a tyrant who needed to be dealt with, but no one took him seriously. They all thought he was some crazy drunk. A few men laughed at him and he tried to start a fight. Utley kicked him out before he could, though."_

She remembers receiving that report. Her new security man did tell her he had to kick someone out of the establishment three days ago. A man who seemed to have a fake eye. Of course it had to be that barbarian.

"And after that? Did he behave, or did he talk to more people in the city?"

It's irrational and she knows it, but old fears start to arise.

Madi is quick to remind her of what she already knows.

_"This island isn't filled with pirates who would like to see your head on a spike anymore. You don't have to worry about an angry mob waiting for you at the harbor when you come back. To the people in the island today, you're nothing more than the bossy, cute owner of one of the most successful tourist attractions this place has ever known."_

For some reason, the corners of her lips twitch up.

"Don't you  _ever_  call me cute again."

Charles' dry chuckle makes her glare daggers at him again, and while Madi laughs on the other side of the line, he winks at her.

His voice is husky from sleep when he raises his chin and the word " _cute_ " leaves his lips.

She narrows her eyes at him.

"Call me if these two return to the island. I have a pirate to murder now, so I will talk to you later."

She hangs up before her sister has the chance to say anything else.

"If only you knew how stressed I am right now, you would think twice before messing with me."

His smirk only grows. She scoffs in annoyance, looking away from him and staring in the direction of the windows again.

"Back when I was trying to reconnect with my ex-husband, things were going way too fast to my liking. I was starting to open up, to accept his advances, and he automatically started to bring forth all his plans for our wedding. As if I had already said yes. But I was scared. I don't know if he didn't notice, if he didn't even care... Or both. But he seems to be stuck in the 18th century. His ideals, his way of thinking and acting... Nothing has changed. It's as if he's still living in the past. Just like my father."

"Why are you talking about him?"

She meets his eyes again. All hints of playfulness have vanished from his face and he's now sitting up on the bunk, leaning his back against one of the walls.

"The Eurydice made port."

She doesn't need to specify where.

"So he dares to step foot in our home again."

"He's back in the ocean by now. But he stayed for three days. He spoke to Scott. That man Utley had to kick out of the tavern the other night? It was Low."

He lowers his eyes to the sheets covering his lap. Eleanor gets to her feet, trying to act calm and collected, but he easily detects the nervous edge to her voice.

"I may have lived a lie. I may have spent all those nights in the arms of a stranger, a stranger whose soul was never truly exposed to me. I was never able to decode his thoughts, to realize what his true nature was... But our married life, brief as it was, did allow me to know him, just a little bit. And don't ask me how, but I simply know that Nassau was the last place he visited. And now, he has lost all hope of finding me in the Bahamas. He doesn't trust Max, or Scott. So he's finally going to do things his own way."

"You're worried he'll start searching the rest of the world." Her silence is the only confirmation he needs, and his eyes are locked with hers as she sits on the edge of the bunk. "That will probably take a while."

"When are you going to start taking things seriously?"

With a heavy sigh, Charles reaches to squeeze her covered thigh.

"When I see a solid threat."

"I kept trying to make you understand there was a solid threat since the day we confronted Teach, you ignored me and what happened? You almost  _died_."

When he just keeps staring at her face with that bored look, she rolls her eyes, knowing that trying to argue with him would be just a waste of time.

For a while they just sit there, listening as the crew started to work up on deck. Not that there's much to be done. They have reached Phuket already, the men are probably waiting for permission to leave the ship and go explore.

_Screw them._

"I admit that... Part of me was hoping he would eventually give up. That his resolve would falter. But it's only growing stronger." His hand starts to massage her inner thigh through the fabric of the robe softly, and she watches his fingers closely. "Children... He always wanted them, so bad. It was one of the reasons why I never told him about the pregnancy. I was still dealing with the knowledge, and I wasn't prepared to see his joy."

When Charles pulls her closer, she doesn't even try to put up a fight.

In seconds, she finds herself lying across his lap, his left arm supporting her neck as if she was a child. He locks his hands together, successfully securing her in place, and she grips the anchor pendant.

"When I learned about Aiden's birth... I was hoping that this child would be enough to keep him in LA. Maybe even go back to Sarah and forget about me. But of course, I was wrong." She raises her free hand to his face, running her fingers over his jawline. "Where do you think he is, right now?"

"He's searching the Atlantic ocean. We're far away."

Shaking her head, she lets her hand rest on his shoulder.

"Now he knows what our ship looks like. Her name. He will search every inch of every ocean. Ask questions in every single port. I know he will. When he gets obsessed with something... He never stops."

His sigh of annoyance makes her narrow her eyes in warning.

"Then it's a good thing we'll be safe in that secret paradise."

"For how long?"

"For as long as we have to."

Eleanor raises an eyebrow at the stupid answer, letting him know she's not satisfied in the slightest. His arms tighten around her, then he brings his thumb to her lower lip, caressing it lightly.

"I'm not worried about the governor, Honeypot. Not at all. Once I settle matters with my uncle, we sail back home."

"But what if he's in the Bahamas by then? Or somewhere on our route? What if he intercepts us?" He shrugs, and the look in his eyes is enough to let her know what's on his mind. "You're actually counting on that, aren't you?"

"I'll get you home, no matter what. Your family is there, the tavern is there. You had so little time to enjoy it. I know you miss your business. You're trying to take care of it from afar as much as you possibly can, but it's not the same, and we both know that."

She opens her mouth to protest, but he silences her with a deep, unhurried kiss.

"It's our home, Eleanor.  _Ours_. Not his. We will go back, no matter what." That perfect voice sends shivers down her spine as he brushes her hair behind her ear. "And if that piece of crap decides to stand in our way, he will be taken care of."

Before she realizes it, he's kissing her again. And she knows him well enough.

The low growl that sounds at the back of his throat makes her pull away and give him a stern look.

"You do know everyone's waiting for us, so we can decide what to do next."

"Then they will just have to wait a little while longer."

The little while turns out to be three whole hours.

* * *

Just before nightfall, two lone figures talk by the cruise ship's rail, staring down at the water. They're both trying to postpone their farewell or ignore it altogether, hoping they can simply skip this part.

"Can you please keep tabs on Abigail, even after you two part ways?" Eleanor asks, hesitating before glancing at his face.

"She's too naive. I won't simply leave her alone in this crazy world. It's not what..." He trails off, letting out a heavy sigh before finishing the sentence. "What a certain person would have wanted me to do."

She's not sure whether he's talking about Thomas or Miranda. And she will probably never know.

She almost reaches out to touch his hand in a silent show of support, but then chooses to lightly bump her shoulder against his.

It's a far less compromising gesture.

"Also, if you could check up on the tavern, Scott, Madi and Agatha... See if they're really ok. After the news I've received this morning, I'm worried about them."

"Sure."

Flint glances at the sky, then at his watch. She knows it's time.

The look in his eyes makes her chest feel tighter.

"You take care of yourself, alright?"

When her father figure says those words, finally giving up, a choked sob tries to escape her throat. This makes her scowl, even though she managed to hold it back at the last second.

Still, she shouldn't be reacting like this.

Eleanor suddenly wants to ask him to stay.

He's been by her side since Charles was still in the coma, is it possible that she's grown just a little bit dependent?

On this man, this fatherly presence.

This is unacceptable.

But maybe she shouldn't be so hard on herself. She's been through some tough times, it's been eight months away from her birth father, and more than five away from Scott. It's the first time she goes such an extended period of time without him, ever since the day she cried and reached for him desperately in her father's office.

Almost 22 years ago.

So maybe it's only natural that she wants to cling to Flint in this moment.

Understandable. But still unacceptable.

That's why she fights against her tears and raises her chin.

"Send me news of Nassau as soon as you can, please. In case you find-"

Any other words she might have said die in her throat when he calmly raises his phone and takes a picture of her.

She's stunned into silence for a moment.

"What the hell?"

Flint shrugs, the ghost of a smile coming to his lips.

"Scott's request." Is his simple answer, and all she can do is roll her eyes as he ruffles her hair and walks away.

"We leave within the next hour, so if you have anything to say to Max, be quick."

Eleanor can't help but smile at his dismissive, cold voice.

Because she knows that deep down, he's hurting just as much as she is.

* * *

"Once the Walrus reaches the island, you will be staying there, right?"

Déjà vu washes over her as Eleanor asks the question, taking a look around the cabin.

It's pretty much identical to the one she shared with Charles during their journey back home, all those months ago.

She recalls that time tenderly.

Their roadtrip across the United States. It was everything she thought she'd never do. Sleeping in those awful, cheap motels. Enduring Anne and her endless, deadly glares. Days on the road.

It was completely different from the trips she was used to. But it wasn't nearly as bad as she was expecting.

Because she had  _him_  by her side, and they were finally free to start writing their own story.

And their time aboard this very same ship was far more enjoyable than that long,  _long_  roadtrip.

Coming back to the here and now, she finally looks away from the balcony, turning around and watching as her former lover walked out of the bathroom.

The other woman has a satisfied smile on her face, her fingers working on tying the white bathrobe. There's an elegant, dark red W broidered on the hem of it, and Eleanor smirks briefly when she remembers she stole the bathrobe from her and Charles' cabin before they left the Walrus.

But on her defense, it was too damn comfortable.

And when Flint came to the Ranger weeks later and saw her wearing the stolen garment, he just laughed and nodded in approval at his little thief, so it's alright.

"There's no place like home." Max's answer to her previous question makes her smile widen.

"Can you help Scott and Madi take care of the tavern, while I'm away?"

Those exotic eyes light up at the request, just as she expected.

"Are you sure? I just may take over your throne in your absence."

She fakes a stern look, but they both end up laughing.

And the tears she just barely managed to contain during her goodbye with Flint come back when Max pulls her into a hug.

This time they successfully break the dam.

"I won't judge you. It's okay. You've cried in front of me so many times in this life, before our memories came back."

"I was a different person back then."

"Nonsense. Tears are not toxic." Max shakes her head, stroking her hair. "You don't have to be afraid of letting them out."

She used to tell her that all the time, whenever Eleanor felt guilty for crying. Usually in the dead of night when she would wake up from that recurring nightmare, screaming, the sight of that hanging body still fresh in her mind as Max held her tight and whispered reassuring words into her ear.

She's so damn lucky this woman found her again.

So lucky to have her in this scary, new world.

So Eleanor allows herself to cry in this stolen moment. Fear about what's to come mixes with the anxiety, the uncertainty of the future making her squeeze her eyes shut.

Max keeps telling her that everything will be just fine, and that they will soon know peace again.

She actually tries to believe those words.

* * *

Things have been way too awkward and Abigail just wants to put an end to it.

Billy has been avoiding her since that morning when he caught her changing, and this is really starting to bother her.

Initially, she had been thankful for his distance.

It had felt like such an invasion, the moment he opened that door and saw her. She felt scared, vulnerable and uncomfortable.

_At first._

Soon, that discomfort faded away, slowly being replaced by a strange rush, a latent curiosity that made her giddy and frustrated at the same time.

It was the first time such a thing happened to her. She was always the goody-two-shoes, the girl who never tried to sneak boys into her father's mansion. She could have done it, so many times. Easily. It's not as if Peter ever came to check up on her in the middle of the night. She could have been a rebel.

But she never was.

Ashley used to tease her endlessly about this, saying she acted like a proper young lady from the 18th century. But she never listened to her friend.

So what if she's still a virgin? She's only 16, and besides... All the boys she has kissed in the last two years, none of them ever made her want to try something new. None of them managed to make her feel curious for more.

Billy is  _not_  a boy.

The thought refuses to leave her alone, and it's absolutely infuriating.

But it's still the truth.

Her savior is a grown man, so very different from the gangly teenagers she's used to, he's just so imposing, tall.

_Strong_.

She's even more aware of that fact now.

Because last night, when she went to wish him a good sleep as usual, she committed the very same mistake he did.

And when she opened the door without knocking, when she saw him standing there, fresh out of the shower with nothing but a loose towel hanging around his hips, she'd been too stunned to react.

His muscles were still wet as he brushed his teeth, eyes glued to the TV, and when he saw her, his first reaction was to laugh.

Then he hurried back to his bathroom, and she just stood at the door, gaping at the empty room until he decided to come back, now fully dressed.

She still doesn't know if that made her disappointed or relieved.

_"Well, I guess now we're even._ " He had said, reaching to scratch the back of his head, and it was so adorable.

She had to chuckle, both to mask how nervous she felt and to reassure him that everything was just fine between them.

And also because of how absurd this whole thing was, of course.

Still, the atmosphere between them is kinda awkward at the moment, and she just wants things to go back to normal.

She finds him playing outside with Davina, and the little girls squeals in joy upon seeing her.

"Abbie, we're dinosaurs! Do you want to be one too?" She runs to her, and the teen is just about to answer when Billy speaks up.

"Nice try, young lady." Walking towards them, he smiles when Abigail meets his eyes.

It makes a little weak on the knees, to be honest.

"She's a sneaky one, she  _knows_  it's time for her bath and we were about to head back inside."

Huffing adorably, Davina crosses her arms and glares at him. "I told you, dinosaurs don't need baths!"

It feels as if time has stopped for a moment as Billy's eyes linger on hers, and she bravely keeps his stare, fighting against the instinct to look away.

Then he breaks the spell, reaching for the little girl and throwing her over his shoulder effortlessly.

"Oh, but this one does."

Abigail can't help but chuckle as he heads back towards the château, a laughing Davina still thrown over his shoulder.

Turning around to face her, he smiles. "Are you joining us in front of the fireplace tonight? We'll be reading some horror stories."

All she manages is a nod of her head. His smile widens.

And when he resumes his walk back to the small castle, Davina's voice reaches her ears.

"Why were you looking at Abbie the same way Charlie looks at Eleanor?

" _Davina_!" He scolds her quietly, but Abigail hears it.

"What? It's true!" That sweet voice exclaims, just before they both disappear inside the château.

Standing there alone, she feels her cheeks blushing, but there's a smile on her lips. Her eyes glint with amusement.

How she loves this little girl.

* * *

Eleanor has recovered completely by the time she makes it back to the Ranger.

She took a walk on the beach to calm her emotions while watching the distancing cruise ship. She simply didn't want anyone near her at that moment, not even Charles.

But now night has fallen, the Walrus is out of sight, and she needs to face reality again.

At least it will be a good night.

Jack and her have plans to watch a few movies in the peaceful little living room located near the galley, the one that is often forgotten. And God only knows what Charles and Anne will be up to.

The corridors are dark and empty and she lets her fingers trail over the wooden walls as she makes her way to the captain's quarters, a warm half smile on her face.

It was supposed to be a simple, loving gesture towards the Ranger, but suddenly she remembers doing this to  _his_ ship, all those years ago. Her smile vanishes. Repressing a shudder, Eleanor opens that heavy door and immediately narrows her eyes at her lover.

He's putting his black leather jacket on, and she knows full well that nowadays, this usually means he's up to no good.

"Where do you think you're going?" Her tone is dry and she crosses her arms, making sure to block the door with her body.

"Out."

"With whose permission?"

He meets her eyes briefly, then walks behind the desk and opens one of the shelves. The blade of his favorite knife glints, catching in the moonlight before he hides it on the inside of his jacket.

"My own."

She knows that if she tries to argue, they will probably fight.

And he must be planning to go look for more crew members anyway, it's no big deal.

"Can I at least know where you off to?"

One of his eyebrows raise as he looks at her again. There's this youthful glint in his eyes, and she doesn't like it one bit.

"We're in Phuket. The nightlife is famous."

For a moment, she just stares at him.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me." Eleanor doesn't get to see his smirk as she walks closer to the bunk, shaking her head like a disapproving mother. "You were the one who kept saying we shouldn't waste any time, we're still relatively close to Somalia, you said we had to find that island as soon as possible! Now you're telling me that you will go out in search of nightclubs? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I know what kind of information we're looking for. And I know where to find it." He explains calmly, unfazed by her outburst or the way she's glaring at him. "That island's obviously shady, I have no doubt there's something illegal going on in there. We need to ask the right people, or we won't find any clues about the place."

"What the hell was Mary thinking?" She suddenly asks, shaking her head and leaning on the edge of the desk. "She says we'll be safe from Teach, but what other threats are we going to find? If you're right, and we sail right into a criminal paradise, what will become of us?"

He chuckles briefly, then walks to stand right in front of her. "You're forgetting something, Honeypot."

She tilts her head to the side, trying to ignore the goosebumps that raise on the skin of her arms when he leans in, his lips just barely brushing hers.

Her arms remain crossed, and when he pulls away she realizes he had reached behind her back to grab his handgun from the desk.

"When it comes to surviving in a criminal paradise, you and I have a lifetime of experience."

That wicked, perfect half smirk he loves so much graces her lips, his words bringing a glint to her eyes.

All she's missing are the old clothes, in this moment it feels as if they've traveled back to the past.

"And besides... If we're lucky, If I find the right people, we won't need to worry about being intruders."

"You're taking Anne with you, right?"

"If I don't take her, she'll hunt me down and gut me alive."

After grabbing a book from the shelf, Eleanor heads over to sit on the bunk.

"Good. Don't get lost, no excessive smoking. But most of all, no fighting." She's sure he's rolling his eyes, even though she's not even looking at him. "And please, come find me as soon as you make it back to the ship. Jack and I will be in that small TV room just beside the galley. We're having a movie night."

It's her turn to roll her eyes when his amused chuckle fills her ears.

"Are you having cheese and wine too?"

"In fact, we are. It's not our fault if we have refined tastes, now, is it?" Repressing a smile, she turns one page of her book. "We're watching Titanic, by the way."

Eleanor can feel his eyes on her when she says that.

It's one of the funniest things in the world to her and Jack, how superstitious their two beasts can be when it comes to certain stuff. Charles and Anne feel extremely uncomfortable with having that particular DVD on board, although they would never admit it out loud.

"The ship sinks, he dies, she throws the diamond in the ocean. No matter how many times you two idiots watch it, it's not gonna change."

She has to chuckle. "That movie is a masterpiece, it never gets boring. But we don't expect you to understand, considering that sick, bloody bullshit you and Anne love to watch."

There's silence while he searches for his recently recovered cigarette pack and lighter, and then Eleanor senses his eyes on her again.

After a few seconds it gets annoying and she throws him a glare. "What?"

"Go get ready."

For a split second she's confused. Then she smirks sarcastically, shaking her head.

"Not a chance."

"Your dear friend is coming too. Right now, Anne is probably holding a knife near his throat while he gets ready."

"Why does it make a difference if we go or not? You and Anne can take care of this yourselves, I thought the two of you could never pass up the opportunity to get rid of us for one night!"

He shrugs, turning around and walking to the ladder.

"We're in Phuket." Is his simple answer before he disappears up the hatch.

* * *

It doesn't take too long for Eleanor to lose her scowl and go from bored to amazed.

She can't believe she was going to miss this. This place looks like another world at night, those bright neon lights everywhere making her gape in awe every now and again.

Not even the crowds make her smile disappear, and the group of four weave their way through the sea of people.

She's overwhelmed, all those foreign words, spoken in languages from all over the word almost making her dizzy.

It feels as if the night will last forever.

The four of them go from bar to bar, looking for any English-speaking locals they could find.

A few of them clearly have no clue about the Island, and others only avoid the subject.

Eventually, they end up in a shady nightclub very similar to the Demeter, and déjà vu washes over them.

"We're not giving up. But let's limit our search to this place until the end of the night. While we're at it, I think we deserve some fun." Charles had said soon after they arrived, and everyone agreed.

As the night progresses, they take turns searching for information and men who might be interested on leaving with them, but no one manages to find any solid clues. Each person they talk to says something different about the island and its location, and they're starting to lose hope already.

It's worse than they thought, and Charles decides to forget about the possibility of finding someone who could lead them there, so they wouldn't be seen as intruders.

It's been four hours since they arrived, and Eleanor knows they won't make any real progress tonight, considering how drunk they're all starting to get.

And that's why she realizes Jack and Charles' real intentions soon after they suddenly disappear, saying they were going to look for recruits elsewhere. And leaving her alone with Anne in the club.

Her eyes narrow and she grips her glass a little bit tighter.

These two are going to pay for this.

And the worst part is that she knows they should avoid splitting up, so she needs to find the redhead. Did she go to the bathroom? Maybe she got into a fight?

Things may still be a little awkward between them, but Anne is an important part of their little family.

Scoffing to herself, Eleanor starts to search around the nightclub.

She never thought that one day, she would see these three as family. Her new life is pretty crazy, she realizes that whenever she stops to think about the way things are nowadays.

All the changes they went through are crazy... But still entirely welcome.

And she has to admit she prefers this neutral relationship between her and Anne, instead of all the bad blood from just weeks ago.

It's like Anne stopped to think about her actions the day Charles got shot. What was probably meant to be a lesson for Teach ended up making all the difference to the little brute. She must have finally realized that all that hatred from the past wouldn't lead them anywhere.

At least  _someone_ learned that valuable lesson.

Just as she thinks about that, someone grabs her left wrist.

Expecting one of the guys or even Anne, she turns around to come face to face with tall, muscled Korean.

At least he looks like he's Korean.

"The fuck?" She spits the words out, managing to free her wrist from his grasp just as Charles had taught her at the mansion all those months ago. But then the idiot grabs both her forearms and corners her against the nearest wall.

The alcohol on his breath makes her want to vomit.

"Alone?" He asks with a heavy accent.

All she wants is to deliver a swift kick to his groin, but then she notices he has a friend with him, and there's no way she would be able to get the upper hand here.

"No-"

"Alone." It's not a question this time and she's outraged.

"I said no-"

"When women say ' _no_ ', is never a real ' _no_ '-"

"Everything okay, babe?"

A raspy voice suddenly interrupts him, and she's shocked when Anne appears out of nowhere, snaking an arm around her waist... and pecking her lips when she turns her head to meet her eyes.

This makes the idiot let go of her arms, both him and his friend stepping away.

Confused, she glances down and realizes that Anne has her free hand on the dagger strapped to her waist beneath her jacket, and she's letting the weapon show.

"Better stay far away from my fiancée, unless you want a blade through your dick."

She speaks the threat in such a natural way, and the men immediately realize she's not joking.

As soon as the two bastards leave them alone, the redhead chuckles.

"Third time already. When you're gonna start paying me, cunt?"

Shaking her head, Eleanor finally finds her voice.

"Is that my pet name now or what?"

Anne's smirk falters and she regrets her words, but then the other woman chuckles again.

"Might be. Now stick to my side, we better keep the façade up until those two brainless assholes leave. They're still looking at you."

For the next hour, it feels as if she's traveled to an alternate universe.

They  _dance_.

They dance, they drink together, they talk, they  _laugh_.

And strangely, even after the two Koreans are gone, they don't leave each other's side.

As they're drinking yet another shot of vodka, a drunk man trips on his own feet just beside them, ending up on the floor, and their only reaction is to meet each other's eyes and laugh at the scene.

And then whatever spell they had been under is broken.

"Look who's finally back." Anne says, stopping with the friendly behavior. Following her eyes, Eleanor sees Charles and Jack leaning against a wall near the entrance of the place.

Anne doesn't say another word to her before walking away to join them. She says something in Charles' ear, and judging by the way his fist clench, it was probably about their Korean friend.

Just as Eleanor is making her way over to them, the redhead leaves with Jack.

"And then there were two." She says with a smirk, and Charles responds by pulling her to him.

"Wish I could have seen that one."

Frowning in confusion, she meets his eyes. "Seen what?"

"Anne told me. She had to kiss you to keep those idiots away."

Raising her eyebrows, she lets him pull her by the hand towards the bar, and they find two vacant stools just beside a middle-aged man in a worn leather jacket.

The place is almost empty by now.

"It wasn't even a real kiss, just a peck - why did she tell you anyway?"

"Respect." Is all he says, raising his finger to order two last drinks for them.

"Respect." She repeats, and he reaches to brush her hair behind her ear.

"I know it was completely meaningless, but she still wanted me to know about it. I just wish I could have seen that scene."

Eleanor rolls her eyes, and they drink in silence for a while.

"So, did you find anything?"

He lets out a heavy sigh, confirming her suspicions. "That damn Island seems to be surrounded by thick fog. People avoid talking about it at all costs."

"You knew this could happen."

"We won't stop. If we don't find any solid information by the end of the week, we leave to search for this place on our own."

"One more shot, please." The man sitting on the stool right next to Charles' speaks in a grave voice. His accent catches their attention and for some reason, the criminal looks over at him.

* * *

The minute that couple came over to sit at the bar too, he knew there was something special about them.

Then they started talking about the Island, and he had to fight hard against the strong urge to chuckle.

Of course they had no success in their search. They're not the first curious tourists who try to find the Island, and they won't be the last ones either.

But when the man speaks...

When the man says they will search on their own, his voice is so determined.

Suddenly, he suspects they're not just curious. There must be something else motivating them.

Something tells him they have the means to search for the Island, and that they're not ones to give up too easily.

Something tells him they're  _different_.

That velvety voice echoes in his mind.

_"We will have new visitors soon. Lead them here. It's your mission, Vasyl. The least you can do."_

The least he can do?

Why?

_"How will I know they're the right people?"_

_"Follow your instincts. The universe will let you know."_

That woman is so damn smart, but the things she says sometimes...

It made no sense, and yet... When he ordered another drink, when he felt the man's eyes on him, when he looked at that strangely familiar face...

Those eyes.

A certain little girl comes to his mind, but he pushes the memory away.

_The universe will let you know._

He's talking before he even realizes it.

"So you're looking for the island? It seems fate has decided to grace you tonight."

The long haired man narrows his eyes, and that pretty blonde focuses her attention on him too.

One glance at her face is enough to let him know that he shouldn't be fooled by her looks. This woman is probably just as strong as the Madame is.

The couple doesn't say a word, and he only looks away from the man's face when his drink arrives.

But he keeps talking.

"I happen to know how to get there."

"We can pay you for your help." The blonde says, and he meets her blue-green eyes briefly, scoffing at the offer.

"I don't need that, sweetheart. Trust me. I have my own reasons to help you, but this is a conversation we should be having... in private." He takes a look around, then his eyes settle on the couple again. "Believe me, these clubs have eyes and ears."

The long haired man meets his partner's eyes for a moment, and he's genuinely surprised to see how easily they communicate without words.

The bond between these two must be a strong one.

"Who are you?" The man suddenly asks him, and for some reason, he wants to smile at the hostility in his voice.

Straightening up, he downs the vodka shot in less than a second, then calmly sets the glass back on the counter.

"Just call me Vasyl."


	36. Fight Back

"Who owns this ship?" The stranger -  _Vasyl_  - asks, looking around the captain's quarters.

She's suspicious of this man. Something about him doesn't please her in the slightest, and she has long since learned to listen to her intuition.

If she doesn't like him, there must be something wrong about this mysterious stranger.

But he's still their only hope, it seems, so Eleanor regretfully forces herself to slip into host mode, grabbing a rum bottle from their cabinet along with three glasses.

"I do. Private vessel." Charles says in response to the question, his eyes following her as she makes her way to his chair and serves the glasses, pushing one of them to the other side of the desk before unceremoniously settling on her favorite spot.

Her pirate's lap.

But she still keeps her chin raised high, making it very clear she's not some brainless sex doll.

"Why are you in Thailand? More importantly, why are you searching for the Island?" Vasyl takes a seat in front of the desk, reaching for the glass. "Do you carry any cargo?"

"No cargo. And it's none of your concern-"

" _Charles_." She cuts him off, resting her hand on his wrist and giving him a look. He rolls his eyes and she forces a fake smile, nodding at the stranger. "Please, do forgive his nasty temper. Answering your question, this was supposed to be a simple vacation, but we ended up encountering some trouble in Africa. We're looking for a safe haven now."

"Trouble with the law, perhaps?"

Charles squeezes her thigh underneath the desk, a silent warning, and she quickly comes up with an answer.

"Pirates."

It seems it's the best thing she could have said.

Sympathy flickers in the stranger's eyes, and he nods.

"Pests. Somali ones?"

"Indeed."

"I'm sorry you were put through such an ordeal. Not too much damage done, I hope?"

She sighs, then takes a drink from her glass. "Charles here ended up killing two of them, to protect me. We had the upper hand, so they were forced to retreat. But we have heard they are spiteful, so now we fear they will come after us for retaliation."

Vasyl nods at the words, and she can see he's a calculating one too.

Eleanor watches him closely as he drinks from his own glass, practically able to hear the engines turning inside his head.

"I've had trouble with them in the past too. And yes, they will probably try to retaliate. You were doing the right thing, seeking the Island for shelter. For some reason, those bastards never get too close to it."

"And you're willing to help us? Why is that? If it's such a secret place, why lead us there?"

He sighs at her question, tapping his fingers on the surface of the desk. "We are facing a few problems of our own back at the Island. I'm afraid we will need... reinforcements. Some strength. And your husband seems perfect for the job."

He's lying.

Well, not entirely. But she knows there's a lot he's not telling them.

"We're not married." Charles says it before she can, and she actually feels gratitude spark in her chest. Then he meets her eyes. "Go get Jack, Anne and Keswick."

She keeps his stare for a moment before nodding and getting off his lap.

His eyes follow her until she's gone.

"Not married, but obviously together." Vasyl's voice makes him clench his jaw.

Where does he know this man from? He's awfully familiar, and what the fuck is this deep hatred Charles feels for him?

What does it  _mean_?

"You should hurry up and put a ring on her finger, before she disappears. That one seems like a rare gem."

"She's not going anywhere." He practically growls, not even trying to mask the hostility in his voice.

When Vasyl smirks at him, he feels so close to snapping. Suddenly, the thought of closing his fingers around that Russian neck seems so damn appealing.

He hates this man, Charles decides.

For some reason, he wants this stranger to die a very, very painful death.

And when Charles Vane wants something, he gets it.

That blonde pain in the ass will be just a simple obstacle.

* * *

"We need to proceed with care." Jack's eyes are locked with hers when he says those words, and Eleanor knows he's right.

Her friend is sitting on the chair next to Vasyl's, Anne is silently watching the scene from the bunk while Keswick remains by the door.

Back in Charles' lap by now, she narrows her eyes at the stranger.

"Jack has a certain talent when it comes to determining whether people are lying or not, so keep that in mind. What exactly is going on in that Island, and what should we expect?"

She sees it.

How he clenches his fist briefly, a couple of seconds going by until he finally speaks.

"It's a complicated situation. We have a small community there. People from all over the world. Our leader, a woman, selects who gets to be part of it. I don't know what's her criteria, but it's hard to win her approval. But the place, it's not exactly ours. We live on a beach, a small, hidden bay. The rest of the Island belongs to the Spaniards."

Eleanor tenses up immediately.

"The Spaniards?"

Charles reaches for one of her hands under the desk, locking their fingers together and letting his thumb stroke her palm reassuringly.

"The farmers." Vasyl specifies, and Jack begins to grin. "They've been there for decades, it's sort of a family business by now. A huge cannabis plantation in the heart of the island-"

"I knew it." Jack interrupts his words, smirking in satisfaction, and Anne rolls her eyes from the bunk.

Vasyl stares at him for a moment, then his attention returns to Eleanor and Charles.

"As I was saying... Our community and the farmers coexist in peace... Relatively. From times to times, we do have problems. Madame Shih, no one knows how or when she arrived at the Island, but she has an agreement with the Spaniards. They grow the weed, they get it ready, and she sells it. They share the profit. Whenever problems with the law arise, she somehow takes care of it too. She's the brain behind the whole thing, the glue that keeps that business together. If it wasn't for her, those Spaniards would have lost their plantation years ago."

"The what's keeping her for taking over the Island?" Eleanor asks, although she already knows what the answer will be.

It seems Vasyl reads her thoughts. A smile plays on his lips.

"You catch up quickly, sweetheart."

Charles grips her hand and her thigh tighter. It almost makes her smirk.

"It's exactly what she wants to do. She's a born leader, and the farmers have been starting to treat her with contempt. Due to her gender, of course. Those fools think they're unstoppable, they don't realize that she's the one taking care of the business. Without her, they would be fucked. And they fail to understand that. So she plans on putting an end to this situation, before it gets... worse. Madame Shih fears the farmers will try to get rid of her, of the community. And she wants to act before they do. Unfortunately, we have few soldiers. The Spaniards have guns, they know how to fight. They have the upper hand."

"Is this what you're doing, then? Looking for soldiers?" Eleanor asks, and he nods briefly.

"The revolution is coming. And we need to make sure we will win. We have the brains..." He sighs, before shrugging and finishing his drink. "...but we lack the strength."

Charles looks over at the bunk, meeting Anne's eyes, and they communicate without words.

"We're in."

Eleanor looks at his face when he says that, frowning softly, but he just keeps staring at Vasyl. "Lead us there. Anne and I will take part in your war."

He looks at the redhead for a moment. She's now leaning her back against the wall and Charles' pillow, one of her feet propped up on the mattress.

Meeting the captain's eyes again, Vasyl nods. "I leave tomorrow, right after noon. Just follow my motorboat, and I will show you how to enter the bay. We should be there by nightfall."

He gets to his feet, then extends his hand towards Charles. "We have an agreement, then?"

He stares at the hand for a couple of seconds, then regretfully lets go of Eleanor's thigh.

For some reason, the atmosphere feels awfully heavy as the two men seal their arrangement with a brief handshake.

"Dear heart." Charles speaks, and Eleanor thinks the words were directed at her. A frown comes to her face when she sees him looking at Anne instead of her. "Escort him out of the ship."

The redhead promptly gets to her feet, and Vasyl gives them one last look before leaving the cabin with her.

"Let the men know about this turn of events. Make sure no one will bring any problems when we set sail."

Keswick nods at the order, wishing them a good rest and walking out the door too.

"Well, how about that. Looks like we have quite the adventure ahead of us." Jack grins, getting to his feet and meeting Eleanor's eyes. "Darling, did you realize how much this situation resembles a DiCaprio movie?"

She has to smile, nodding in agreement. "I did.  _The Beach_. Our life just keeps getting crazier and crazier, huh?"

"If this Madame Shih turns out to be Tilda Swinton, I'm done." Jack chuckles at his own joke, walking to the door. Just before he leaves the cabin, he offers them a half smile. "Please try and get some rest, you two."

As soon as they're alone, Eleanor looks at her lover's face.

"Dear heart?"

The corners of his lips twitch up.

"It's my pet name for her. I came up with it when she was just a 8-year-old little girl."

"Then how come I'm only hearing it now?"

Sighing heavily, he pats her thigh. "I normally use it when it's just the two of us. That was a slip up."

"I see."

Silence hangs heavy in the air, and she can hear a few birds chirping in the distance outside.

A sign that dawn is close.

"What the fuck are we getting ourselves into, Charles?"

He keeps staring at the rum bottle, and she gets to her feet. Walking around the desk, Eleanor shakes her head.

"We should have talked about this first. You made that decision without consulting me-"

"Because I knew you would try to change my mind."

She scoffs, taking a few steps away from the desk. "Of course I would! He expects you to to fight, and-"

"And I  _can_  fight." He gets up from the chair, and the glint in his eyes lets her know he's suddenly close to snapping. "You have no idea how many battles I've fought while still recovering from near death experiences. It's time you stop treating me like some wounded animal. You're making me feel like I'm a broken toy."

His voice raises as he walks around the desk too, and she keeps his heated stare while he stalks over to her like a predator. "I  _am_  ready to fight again, and it's about time you understand that."

She suddenly feels tears burning in her eyes. "I almost lost you-"

"But you didn't. You can't treat me like this forever. You took care of me, you made sure I recovered well, and I  _am_  grateful for that. But now things must go back to normal. You're not even fighting me, for fuck's sake."

Narrowing her eyes, she takes a few steps back when he's close to her. "You're saying you miss our  _fights_?"

"I miss  _you_." Her frown grows, and she keeps moving away. "Treat me as your equal again, or I will  _force_  you to do so."

"Stop this nonsense. You can't tell me how to act-"

"Then fight back."

Realizing she fell right into his trap, Eleanor feels her blood starting to boil. Whatever it is he's doing to try and bring her anger back, it's working.

And she can't do anything to stop this.

"You're such an ungrateful bastard."

There's a hint of hatred in her voice, but it's not enough for him.

"This isn't us. All this coddling, all this care, this  _gentle_  relationship. It may be nice, for a while, but it isn't us, and you know that."

She swallows hard, the scorn in his eyes making her clench her fists at her sides.

She's trying to grasp at her self-control, and the bastard knows it.

"So stop playing nurse and go back to normal. It's time. You're not gentle. You're not  _docile_."

A choked sound leaves her lips. His words hit her on the right spot.

But she remains passive, standing there in silence, and he clenches his jaw.

She sees it in his eyes when he decides to play dirty.

"The scent of his blood was so damn satisfying. Seeing that pig die was one of the highlights of my life. It still is."

She can't believe he just did that. She can't believe he had the  _audacity_ -

"Daddy dearest shook like an abused dog whenever I spoke. It was a pleasure to watch."

"Shut up."

He's closer now, and she does her best to hold back her tears.

"You should have seen the look in his eyes when he talked about you. It was as if you were a lifeless object. A coin of trade, not a person. Not his  _daughter_."

"Just shut up, you heartless  _asshole._ "

This cruel smirk plays on his lips, and her hands are  _itching_  to slap it away.

But she refuses to give him what he wants.

"Fight back, Eleanor."

He suddenly has her cornered against the desk, the intense look in his eyes sending shivers down her spine. Her hands grip the wood and he speaks with a dangerous edge to his voice.

"Slap me. Hit me in the chest, punch my jaw, just  _fight back_."

She keeps his stare bravely.

Seconds drag by, and he scoffs in contempt.

"Maybe you're too weak now. Years of living with your shit of a father in that fancy ass mansion of his must be catching up to you."

He notices she's gripping the edges of the desk tighter.

"Or is this the docile lady who knitted for her precious husband? The one who killed you."

Her chest is heaving and she's so close. Her self-control is hanging by a thread and he knows she just needs one last little push.

Trailing his fingers over her jawline in a feather-like caress, he leans in closer.

"I wonder how he even accepted you as his wife three centuries ago, given the state of your virtue - or  _lack_  thereof."

That does it.

It's not a slap.

Her right fist connects with his jaw, a strangled sound leaving her lips.

Her eyes shine with the deepest hatred as he recovers, slowly looking at her face again.

Just as she starts to realize what she just did, before she can even start to worry about his well-being, he offers her a sadistic smirk.

The predatory look in his eyes makes her stomach do somersaults.

"Now  _that's_  my girl."

He's kissing her before she can scoff.

Her hands fly to the back of his neck, nails digging into his skin until she's sure she's drawing blood. He claws at her skin-tight dress, and she's sure the only reason why he doesn't rip it to pieces is because he absolutely loves the way she looks in it.

And she'd have him hanged again, if he ruined her favorite dress.

After unzipping the back of the dress, he breaks their heated kiss. Her nails press in deeper in response when he bites her neck, surely leaving a mark that would last for days.

She's not sure how he does it, but next thing she knows, she's free from the dress and forced on her back on the surface of the desk.

"Grip the edges. If you move, I won't fucking touch you for a month."

She's glaring deadly daggers at him.

But for some reason, she obeys.

He grabs the rum bottle, and her eyes widen briefly when he pours some of the amber liquid on her stomach - then quickly leans in to lick all of it away before it could fall to the desk.

For some reason, this sets her blood on fire and her breath catches when he does it again.

Looks like they can scratch body shots out of their " _to do_ " list.

It's probably paradise for him, the taste of her skin mixed with his favorite rum. He does it three times, and then she realizes he's getting rid of her underwear. Her hands grip the edges of the desk tighter as his lips leave her stomach to settle between her thighs.

Okay, now  _that_  must be the definition of paradise to him.

They're both in a hurry, so it doesn't take too long for him to open one of the shelves of the desk. She smirks cruelly when he retrieves one of those foil packages.

It's sweet to see his indignation, but she has to admit she misses the feeling of being joined with him without all that annoying latex in the way.

She can't wait for the pills to start working again so they won't need condoms anymore. Before she can try to protest, he's carrying her to the bunk. He's probably doing everything he can to show her he's not wounded anymore.

Still, her eyes fill with concern after he finishes discarding his clothes and hovers above her.

It's the first time since the incident he'll be on top, and she doesn't know if she's okay with that.

But when he kisses the corner of her mouth, when he whispers a few reassuring words in her ear, when he's moving inside her and finally setting their pace again, she can't find her voice or the strength to complain.

How she  _missed_  this. Although she would never admit it out loud.

When she's not kissing his lips, she's glaring at him and letting her hate show. Her nails break through the skin of his back a few times, some blood mixing with his sweat, much to her satisfaction. The pain only spurs him on, and everyone in the ship must be hearing them by now.

Everyone in  _Phuket_  must be hearing them by now.

"Slow down-" She manages to speak when he starts moving too fast, but his only response is to growl, bite her neck and increase the mad pace even further.

It makes her see stars.

She loses count of how many times she comes undone, his name on her lips. Sunlight is invading the cabin, but they barely acknowledge it.

If the bastard could already last so long without a condom, he's been practically unstoppable lately.

Eleanor is seriously considering the humiliating idea of telling him she can't take it anymore when his movements begin to grow erratic. Biting her lower lip hard, she holds on to him for dear life until he groans, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

Another thing she misses terribly, that liquid warmth inside her...

How she aches to feel it again.

The unhurried kiss to her shoulder makes her sigh softly in satisfaction.

* * *

"What you said earlier... Just before I punched you..." Her voice is quiet and lazy. The cabin is dark again, Charles closed the curtains, and they're now lying on the bunk. Her back is pressed to his front, his arms safely around her, and she's facing the wall. His fingers stroke her exposed stomach tenderly.

"It actually used to bother him a lot. The fact that I gave my virtue to a 'dirty pirate'." Shifting briefly in his arms, she sighs heavily. "Instead of him. He was constantly rubbing it in my face, frustrated that I wasn't a pure bride. Funny, he didn't seem to have a problem fucking me before our wedding. He was always such a  _hypocrite_."

He grips her arm tightly when she says that.

"Did you ever regret it?"

She knows what he's talking about. The question makes her feel a little uncomfortable. "It was the best thing I could have done at the time. My father was planning to marry me off to some-"

"I'm not talking about your father. I don't give a fuck what he felt or his opinion about that. I'm talking about you. Did  _you_  regret it?"

Turning around in his arms so she could look him in the eyes, she shakes her head.

"No."

A few seconds go by and they don't avert their eyes.

"It once made me feel fragile. To remember that you were part of that moment in my life. Today, I can't imagine anyone else other than you being my first. In the previous life. It  _was_  the right decision."

She can barely see his smile in the dark. But it's so freaking beautiful.

"I liked to be the first."

"And it doesn't change anything? That in this life-"

"I'm not  _him_."

It's her turn to smile, and she snuggles closer.

As if she's thankful for his presence.

"It was a disaster though. I must admit, I wish it could have been you again."

"You wouldn't have been able to wait for 23 years... Until that night when I climbed up to your balcony."

Rolling her eyes, she chuckles quietly against the skin of his neck, shivering when he runs his finger up and down her spine in an unhurried caress.

"Wish it could have been me again, too. But it doesn't change a thing about how I see you, alright?"

"You're so sweet sometimes. Thought you had a reputation to uphold?"

"What about yours?"

Raising her eyebrows, she splays her right hand over his chest.

"I am maintaining my reputation just perfectly, thank you very much. The crew follows any orders I give and they tremble under my glare whenever they fuck up."

"What would they do if they knew you can't sleep well without me acting as a dream catcher? If they knew you love to cuddle?"

"I do  _not_."

He actually laughs at that.

She can't stop smiling.

"Then I dare you to spend a whole night lying down with your back to me. No touching whatsoever."

Her silence makes him laugh again.

"It gets cold in the middle of the ocean at night, and it's not my fault if you're naturally warm."

"Is that so?"

"Hmm, really, it's creepy. You remind me of a werewolf from the movies Abigail used to force me to watch with her."

She regrets those words immediately.

"What movies?"

"If I tell you, you'll never stop making fun of me."

"I just might pretend to like that girl the next time we meet, so I can get the answers out of her."

Scoffing quietly, she represses a yawn.

"Abbie is terrified of you, in case you didn't notice. So this is a battle I would win."

"We'll see about that."

Her yawn finally escapes. Kissing her forehead, Charles holds her tighter.

"Sleep now. We have a new journey ahead of us in just a few hours."

"Wake me up before we set sail."

He just nods, although knowing he'll probably end up letting her sleep.

"I hate you." She mumbles sleepily.

The corners of his lips twitch up.

"Hate you too."

As they fall asleep, there's a much different phrase in their heads.

_I love you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I shamelessly borrowed a part of The Beach's plot. Judge me.
> 
> But I will do my own version, I won't follow the movie, everything else will be original. I just used the inspiration for the Island, the farmers and the community, that's all ;)


	37. I am an Island

_**Los Angeles** _

_**Six years ago** _

_Sometimes she wonders why she even bothers._

_Entertaining those shallow people... Their guests, or **her father's**  guests, this sickening high society._

_Every single time she takes a break to talk to Scott, these assholes give her a strange look. As if the security man wasn't worthy of her attention. As if he was less than them._

_At least he has a pure, true heart._

_He's the only one in this mansion who knows what's she's feeling. The only one who knows how fake this smile on her face is._

_And she can feel his eyes on her at all times, she can feel his worry._

_It's not for nothing._

_She's been going through a tough time. It's always at this time of the year, she always feels worse. The nightmares are more insistent. Her depression and self-hatred grow ten times stronger, and she can't help but feel as if it's the anniversary of something horrible._

_It's the first time she has a certain someone with her, though. So maybe it won't be too bad this year..._

_Annoying tears burn in her eyes as she makes her way through the dark, silent hallways hours later, after the last few guests are gone. Only Peter remains, but he's drinking with her father in the office, and she loathes that man._

_They will probably be there until the morning. She has better things to do than listen to their stupid hate speeches._

**_Animal killers._ **

_A lump forms in her throat and she starts to tug at the various pins holding her hair in place, yanking a few of them out so those blonde waves could tumble freely from the intricate hairstyle._

_Such sadness... One of her father's friends had made an announcement tonight._

_Cancer... She has always hated that word, that curse. How is this fair? That you suddenly receive a death sentence, and you can't do anything... Except postpone the inevitable?_

_For some reason, this turn of events had touched her deeply._

_Woods isn't a bad person. She knows he's involved with several charity projects. He donates money to those who truly need it._

_It's strange, but his wife didn't show any reaction when he talked about the cancer, no sadness, no grief. His oldest son, Mason, or something like that, was also present at the time, and she didn't detect any changes in his facial expression either._

_And the youngest son is currently on his honeymoon trip... Must be tough to deal with this sort of thing at a time that should be happy._

_For some reason she can't bring herself to feel bad for him, though. She doesn't even remember his name, anyway._

_But Woods doesn't deserve to die. She knows his selfish wife will use the money for her own purposes once he's gone. It's a pity. It's so rare to find pure hearted people among this rotten society she's part of._

_Briefly, Eleanor wonders what kind of person she is. Is she among the small, nice group that the now doomed Rogers patriarch practically leads?_

_Or is she just like all the others?_

_She's always felt as if she's selfish and awful, so maybe she'll just stick with the second option._

_Finally reaching the door to her room, she feels the corners of her lips twitch up involuntarily. A beautiful melody is coming from inside, the perfect creature waiting for her in there must have turned on the stereo._

_"I've drawn you a bath." That accented voice says as soon as she walks into the room and closes the door behind her again. "Thought you might need it. To relax. How did it go?"_

_"Same as always. Sometimes just boring, and others... I felt as if I was drowning."_

_Max's eyes fill with sympathy, and she offers her a warm smile._

_"Poor thing. But it's over now. Do you want a massage?"_

_She does. But instead of accepting the offer, she shakes her head. It's been only a couple of months, and she's still getting used to sharing such moments with this girl. It's the first time she has a serious relationship, and she's still trying to learn._

_The situation is a little bit messy. Her father has no idea Max is here with her tonight, and she prefers to keep it that way._

_For as long as she possibly can._

_She knows he would never accept this. And it makes her so scared to think about her future with Max. If Richard finds out someday, he will give her hell. He will do his best to tear them apart. He will make her **choose.**_

_It's painful to think about it, because this girl gives her such peace... A happiness she had never known before. It's just perfect, and even though Eleanor still feels as if there's something missing, she doesn't want this to end._

_She doesn't want to throw this wonderful gift from life away._

_But she already knows... if it comes down to it, if she's forced to give Max up one day, in order to keep things afloat with her father, to keep following the path she has already chosen for herself, she will do it._

_She will break her own heart, for the plans she has made. They are more important, and she's selfish like this._

_She just hopes Max won't disappear from her life completely when that day comes._

_"I don't know why you even force yourself to endure these occasions... It's clearly a torture for you."_

_"I do what I have to do."_

_Shaking her head in disapproval, Max gently leads her to the bathroom, making her sit down on the edge of the bathtub before proceeding to finish freeing her hair from all those uncomfortable pins._

_"Honestly... You've been doing this for so many years... And yet he never looks at you any differently."_

_The only thing she doesn't like about this girl. How easily she reads her, like a book._

_It's almost as if they already knew each other, long before that night at the bar two months ago._

_Reaching to touch the warm water, Eleanor breathes in the calming scent of her favorite bath oil._

_"I'll be alright. Just need a good, relaxing night, that's all."_

_"Let me help you with that, then."_

_Smiling weakly, she lets the other girl kiss her, hand still in the water._

**_"I am an island,_ **

**_You are the ocean,_ **

**_We're so close,_ **

**_We're touching,_ **

**_Completely surrounded..."_ **

_Her eyes open and she pulls away, breaking the kiss and trying not to fall into the bathtub._

_"What is-"_

_"Shhh." Eleanor holds up a finger, silencing her lover immediately and staring at the wall. Concentrating on the words._

_For some reason, the song coming from her room suddenly has her full attention, and something stirs deep inside her._

_Inside her heart..._

**_"But I cannot have you,_ **

**_The way that I want to,_ **

**_Cause I am an island,_ **

**_You are the ocean..."_ **

_What is this deep anguish she feels?_

_Why does she suddenly feels like crying?_

_It's almost as if she's connecting with a different person._

_Cannot have you..._

_Just **why?**_

_"Please, leave me alone for a moment." She requests in a quiet voice, much to her lover's concern._

_"Are you okay-"_

_"Just **leave.** "_

_After a moment of silence, Max steps away from the bathtub. There's a hurt look on her face, but as always, she's an understanding angel._

_"I'll wait in that empty room down the hall. Take your time."_

_As soon as Eleanor hears the door of her room opening and closing, as soon as she knows she's alone, one tear finally slides from her cheek to the warm water._

**_"No, I cannot have you,_ **

**_I cannot have you without_ **

**_Drowning"_ **

_The words hurt as if they're a spear piercing through her heart, her soul._

_Why does it feel as if the universe is rubbing something in her face?_

_She walks back into her room, heading over to the stereo on her vanity table._

_Another tear escapes, and she angrily wipes it away._

_But it's completely useless, and as she keeps listening to the song, things only get worse._

_She's suffering. So, so much._

_And yet, she just can't bring herself to turn off the stereo. So she sits on her bed, sobs leaving her lips nonstop._

_Her tears keep flowing and she gives up on trying to wipe them away._

**_"I'm part of your world but,_ **

**_I cannot have you,_ **

**_Cause I am deserted,_ **

**_And you are too deep"_ **

_Each and every word... This song, it's throwing her into a whirlwind of emotions._

_She **misses**  someone. She feels depressed. Touched, hurt, in awe. And just a little bit... Hopeful?_

_Because it's as if she's closer to something important, something buried deep in her subconscious, something she desperately needs to know._

_To **remember.**_

_It just hurts so freaking much, though._ _Both her head **and**  her heart are aching._

_And the weirdest part is that from the moment she started paying attention to those haunting lyrics, there's been a constant presence in her thoughts._

_That unique face._

_Those soulful, beautiful eyes, blue as the ocean itself._

_That passionate speech, that raspy, strong voice she knows just as well as her own by now._

_The man she sees in her nightmares._

_The one who hangs to death right before her eyes almost every night, ever since she was just a little girl._

_Sometimes she wonders if he's real. If he's somewhere out there._ _She wonders who he is, even though she feels as if she knows the answer to that question very, very well._

_She knows him._

_The thought is so fucking absurd, but she can't bring herself to ignore it._

**_"I cannot love you,_ **

**_Without losing me"_ **

_Damn it, what does this feeling means?_

_She's just so lost, so overwhelmed by unfamiliar emotions._

**_"I am an island,_ **

**_You are the ocean,_ **

**_We're so close,_ **

**_We're touching,_ **

**_Completely surrounded"_ **

_When it finally feels as if the courage to get to her feet and turn off the stereo will come, she just ends up clenching her fists around the sheets._

_**"But I cannot have you,** _

**_The way, that I want to,_ **

**_Cause I am an island,_ **

**_You are the ocean"_ **

_She's never been the kind of person who feels the need to explain her actions._

_She does what she wants to do, what she thinks is best for herself._

_It's always been like this._

_The how come she suddenly feels this strange urge to justify herself? As if there's something she regrets so deeply._

_She has no idea what the hell is going on._

**_"No I cannot have you,_ **

**_I cannot have you, without_ **

**_Drowning."_ **

_Once the song is finally over, Eleanor does her best to calm down._

_Her heart is racing like crazy, her emotions all over the place, and she's sure that what's left of her makeup looks like pure chaos._

_She can barely breathe._

_Fuck, it **hurts.**_

_She's sure the nightmares will be awful tonight, if she dares to close her exhausted eyes and go to sleep._

_That face, that damn face refuses to leave her alone._

_Cannot have you without drowning._

_**And now you're drowning anyway, how does it feel to know that? To know your sacrifices were all for nothing?** , a cruel voice suddenly says in her head, and this brings a confused frown to her face._

_Where did that come from?_

_Some things in her life... make no sense at all._

_A choked sob leaves her lips, unexpectedly, and then she's breaking down again._

_If only she knew where all this pain comes from, if only she could understand the source of this despair... Maybe she could do something about it, other than cutting her own skin..._

_Trembling, she heads to the bathroom, praying Max won't be too disappointed when she sees all the fresh wounds on her thighs later._

_It's absolutely maddening, this pain, this anguish..._

**_This man._ **

_Blade in hand, she sits down on the floor, leaning her back against the bathtub._

_Sometimes she wonder if this will ever end. If she's doomed to suffer, and why._

_What the fuck did she ever do to deserve all this confusion, all this suffering?_

_It makes her so angry, how this makes her look like a victim. She doesn't want to be weak. It's like there's a part of her that's dormant, a part she simply can't reach. The part that contains her strength. Her pride. She knows it's there... She knows this ridiculous, frail thing isn't her._

_But there's something missing, she just can't gain access to her true self, her strength..._

_Could this be punishment for something she did? Does such a thing even **exist?**_

_The hauntingly torturous lyrics of that damn song are still echoing in her mind when she takes a deep breath and brings her arm down harshly, the sharp, cold blade meeting delicate, porcelain skin._

_Minutes earlier, in a much different neighborhood, a pair of blue eyes snap open._

_Letting out a low, frustrated growl, he gets to his feet, stumbling out into the main space of the hideout._

_These two idiots had left the damn stereo on before heading off to bed, and some stupid, romantic song about an island and the ocean ended up disturbing his sleep._

_He had tried to ignore it at first, but the lyrics are making him angry. Too angry._

**_"No, I cannot have you,_ **

**_I cannot have you, without_ **

**_Drown-"_ **

_Charles is sure he just broke the fucking stereo. Maybe he doesn't know his own strength sometimes._

_Enjoying the silence, he scoffs to himself._

_"That's your own problem." He says to the electronic device, his voice still extra raspy from sleep._

_He's not sure why he felt the sudden urge to say that, but it seems stupid now._

_Strangely, it felt as if he wanted to say that to someone. To another human being._

_Shaking his head, he turns around to walk back to his room. Then another sudden wave of rage crashes over him and he clenches his jaw._

_If the poor stereo wasn't broken beyond repair already, his strong kick takes care of that._

_Unsure why he did such a thing, Charles returns to his private bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him._

_He needs a few cigarettes in order to calm down enough to go to sleep._

_Anger is still coursing through his system though, along with some pain, and his dreams are once again plagued by that beautiful blonde angel who seems so **familiar**  to him._

_It's a good thing he's asleep._

_The lone tear that trails down his left cheek would have been a huge blow to his pride, had he been aware of it._

* * *

**Present Days**

It's around 8 p.m. when they drop anchor, and Eleanor is happy she remembered to send a message to her family before they left Phuket.

One look at her phone screen lets her know there's no signal here on the island, just as she suspected.

She's still in awe.

It was scary and almost impossible to get the Ranger through the strait dividing the bay from the rest of the ocean.

Lucky for them, they have one hell of a captain.

Certain parts of the sea are glowing in the dark of the night. She heard about this phenomenon before, and now she's finally seeing it. It surpasses all of her expectations.

The beach is visible thanks to a campfire or two, and several tiki torches. The same goes for the jungle, there's a path that starts at the sand, they can't see where it leads but those same torches are lining both sides of it. This illumination also lets them see a few tents among the trees and bushes.

It looks like paradise, even during the night.

She sees Vasyl, already on the beach by now, waiting for them.

And as they get the lifeboat ready, she notices that a certain someone is acting a little weird.

She looks at Charles over her shoulder, just in time to see him lower his hand from his neck. His breathing seems a little shaky for a moment.

It makes her feel uneasy, but she decides to ignore it.

When they make it to the beach a few people stare from the jungle, blending in the shadows, and it's a little creepy. Eleanor just hopes this scenery will look different in daylight.

Wordlessly, Vasyl leads them through the path she saw earlier, and she glances over her shoulder at the sea. Her attempt to see their beloved ship fails, she's now surrounded by darkness. But they dropped anchor, so Eleanor knows she'll be alright. And they will be able to see her again when dawn comes.

They hear the whispers all around, words spoken in foreign languages.

For a moment, it feels as if she's just traveled to Neverland.

On both sides of the clear path there are trees, bushes, tents. And curious people hidden in the dark.

Eleanor has the strange impression of hearing a whisper of her name once, but it's probably just her imagination.

_Probably._

The path ends at some sort of big, strange shed, surrounded by tiki walls. The ceiling is apparently made of wood and palm fronds, and there are makeshift benches, tables and hammocks near the walls.

Madame Shih's little kingdom looks like a very advanced castaway camp, she decides.

At the end of the shed, there's a large tent, bigger than all the others. She can't see too well in the dark, but it seems to be covered in Chinese drawings.

Vasyl announces himself before pushing the flap aside and gesturing with his head, silently ordering them to accompany him.

"Tell them to make the crew wait outside."

An imposing, yet somehow delicate voice says, and Eleanor's heart skips a beat.

How in the world did she even know about the crew?

Maybe she saw them coming through the path... Maybe there are cameras around?

Charles recovers first, looking over at Keswick. "Keep them in line. I don't want anyone wandering off."

Their most trusted crewmember nods at the order, and then that large hand she knows so well seeks hers.

Locking their fingers together, she and Charles share one last look with Jack and Anne before following Vasyl through the open flap.

The interior of the tent is filled with a faint glow, from the paper lanterns decorating the place. A large, crimson rug covers most of the dirt ground and she can smell the incense.

This lone, delicate figure is sitting in front of a rectangular, low table, in the middle of the tent.

"Madame, they're-"

"You too, wait outside." She says, and her commanding voice reminds Eleanor of the tone she always used... Back when she was a queen.

Vasyl seems taken aback by the words, but he doesn't dare trying to object.

As the Russian walks past them, his shoulder nearly brushing against Charles' she feels her criminal gripping her hand tighter.

A few seconds go by in silence, that mysterious woman still has her back to them. Jack and Anne meet their eyes, and then that imposing voice fills their ears again.

"Come join me. I don't bite."

Jack raises an eyebrow at them, and Anne punches his shoulder. The redhead is the first to move, walking to the table, completely fearless.

Pride swells in Charles' chest as he leads the other two over to Madame Shih too.

When the four of them walk around the table, the woman looks up at them.

"Sit."

She sounds so calm. If she's stressed about the current situation with the Spanish farmers, she's not letting it show.

They're all doing as she said, in the blink of an eye.

It's almost as if this woman emanates power. The calculating look in her eyes, her perfect posture, everything about her has them wondering who she is.

Or rather, who she once was.

Surely such majesty can't come from one simple life as leader of an isolated community, right?

"How many men do you have with you, captain? Eight, correct?"

Her question is directed at Charles, and he keeps her stare while nodding his head.

"And they are all willing to fight?"

Straight to the point. She must be actually desperate, below that calm and collected surface, Eleanor realizes.

And she knows  _exactly_  how that feels.

"They are willing  _and_  perfectly capable. All of them."

"So are you." She looks from his face to Anne's, who accidently sat right beside Eleanor, instead of letting Jack occupy a spot between them. "And you, child?"

The right corner of Eleanor's lips twitches up as she shares a look with Jack. They both know the redhead is probably uncomfortable with being called  _that._

And she can't snap.

So she simply nods, not saying a word.

Madame Shih's eyes return to Charles, and Eleanor wonders why she's so focused on him.

Her face somehow looks young and mature at the same time. She's obviously filled with wisdom, but her skin is nearly flawless. She looks like she's in her late thirties, but something tells Eleanor she's actually older than that.

"Why did you come here? Tell me the  _real_  story, if you please."

The four of them share looks among themselves. Their surprise brings the ghost of a smile to the Asian's face, but it's gone in less than a second.

Suddenly realizing she still has Charles' hand in hers, Eleanor gives it a soft squeeze. Their eyes meet briefly and she nods, letting him know it was fine by her.

He looks at the other two, and they show no signs of protesting either, so he takes a deep breath.

Or tries to.

Only Eleanor realizes the way his breath catches, a scowl coming to her face.

"We sailed from our home in the Bahamas to Somalia, to see my uncle. I hadn't seen him in... In years."

It's brief.

Something flashes in the Asian's eyes, but she recovers her composure too quickly and they're unable to decipher the strange reaction.

"He was leading a band of pirates in Somalia, and due to... problems from the past, he wanted her-" He gestures with his head towards Eleanor. "-dead. He tried to murder her, I couldn't allow it. So I jumped in front of a bullet, and came really close to dying myself. My uncle couldn't deal with the guilt, so he left. Once I started to recover, news came that he had plans of keeping us trapped in his kingdom. And I know him. Given how deep his hatred for Eleanor is, I just knew he would try to hurt her again. We managed to escape from Somalia. But we needed a temporary safe haven. Somewhere we could breathe and have some time to plan our next move, the best way to deal with this whole situation."

"And what do you propose?" Madame Shih inquiries, and since he and Eleanor had already discussed about this before, Charles answers immediately.

"The Russian told us about your situation. We agree to stay and help until all of that is solved, by that time I will probably have a solid plan. So I leave to find my uncle and confront him. Hopefully, we will be able to come to a peaceful agreement."

She remains silent for a while, thinking about his words and staring at the incense burning away on her table.

They're all worried she will deny them the shelter they so desperately need. But the words she says next take a huge weight off their shoulders.

"Very well, then. Our rules are simple, but strict. I will start with mine. Any sort of disturbance to our peace will not be tolerated. My authority is not to be crossed or questioned. As you will notice tomorrow, the members of this community are free to walk around unclothed, if that's what they wish. I encourage your discretion when it comes to that. Do not behave in any way that will make those members uncomfortable. I am in charge of assigning chores. If there's anything you are unable to do, just seek me out so we can take care of that. Fights between members are forbidden, and if they happen, those involved will be punished. No one is allowed to leave camp and venture deeper into the jungle after midnight. From dawn to that time, you're all free to explore the Island... But keep in mind that if you trespass any of the Spaniard's borders, you will not be under my protection anymore, and if they see you, you will be executed on sight."

"And how do we identify those borders?"

A somber half smirk plays on Madame Shih's face, and Jack almost regrets asking the question.

"Trust me. If you find the borders, you will know. The bodies of those who tried to intrude in their territory over the decades, the Spaniards hang them by their necks on the trees... And then they leave them to rot away. Some are still decomposing; others are nothing but skeletons by now. Usually, if you come close to a border, the smell will let you know from a distance."

Eleanor grips Charles' hand tighter, unable to hold her tongue.

"Then how do you expect Charles and Anne to lead an army into their territory? What are the chances of those bastards killing them?"

The redhead frowns briefly, finding it strange that Eleanor included her.

Madame Shih offers her a quick smile. "That depends... On how good they are. On how good the plan we will come up with is."

Swallowing hard, Eleanor gathers the courage and asks a question that's been haunting her since the moment they arrived at the bay. "The Spaniards. Do they ever come here?"

"On occasions. They have an estate near the plantation. There are around 40 of them, all men. Wives and children live in the mainland. I am the only one who's allowed to trespass the borders and visit the house, once every month, to take care of business. But they sometimes send a few men to do surprise check-ups on the camps. It's rare, but it happens. Also, every time we receive new members, they come to the usual celebrations. Not all of them, however. Normally three to five men."

"When will the celebrations take place?"

Charles is probably the only one who detects the nervous edge to her voice. His thumb caresses the skin of her hand reassuringly.

"Tomorrow, after nightfall. You are the first ones who bring a vessel here, so the farmers will surely inspect her every inch. Do you have any weapons on board? Anything that could possibly be considered a threat?"

"We have guns. Blades." Charles says, not failing to recognize the glint in the Asian's eyes.

"We should probably bury them somewhere." Jack suggests, and Madame Shih nods promptly.

"Indeed. Be sure to take care of that tomorrow, before dusk comes. Vasyl will help you with that."

"You told us about your rules... What about theirs?" Anne finally speaks. Madame Shih sighs briefly.

"We have a total of 21 members. 33, if I include the four of you and your crew. We are allowed to visit the mainland once every two months, for one week. During that time, we buy supplies such as medicine and other small comforts. Vasyl went to Phuket without permission, to seek soldiers, and we just pray they won't find out. If they ask, the four of you have stumbled upon this Island on accident."

"So, basically, we will be prisoners."

The Asian shrugs at Jack's words, looking each one of them in the eye. "You still have the choice to leave. The Spaniards have no idea you're here, for now. But if your ship is still in the bay by dawn... I will be forced to walk to the borders and let them know about your presence here. Choose wisely. One last thing, before I bid you goodnight." She locks eyes with Charles again, raising her chin. "I am aware you must still hold authority over your crew, should you decide to stay. You are their leader. I am the leader of this community. But we can coexist in perfect peace. Just make sure you don't cross me."

He nods, after considering her for a couple of seconds.

"There are two vacant tents near the beach, ask Vasyl to lead you there. Your men may sleep in the hammocks for now."

She doesn't say another word after that, and they take it as their cue to get up and leave. Just as they're about to exit the tent, however...

"Charles."

How in the world does this woman know his name? Maybe Vasyl contacted her, it's nothing too crazy.

That's what they try to tell themselves.

"In case your uncle refuses to listen... In case he still wants to murder Eleanor, and you can't do anything to make him change his mind. What are you going to do about it?"

His jaw clenches briefly, and he answers with a firm, resolute voice.

"I will kill him myself."

There's nothing but heavy silence as Madame Shih stares at him. Then she smiles softly, nodding and turning her back to them.

"Goodnight, young lovers."

Once they're out of the tent again, walking through the shed so they could reach the path where Vasyl was talking to Keswick and the rest of the crew, Jack sighs heavily.

"So what are we going to do? Are we going to sleep, or will we turn the ship around so we can leave this crazy place behind and never look back?"

"We came this far. And it's not like we have much of a choice. This is the only temporary solution I can find, and you all know that's exactly what we need."

They nod at Charles' words, and just like that, the decision is made.

After Vasyl leaves them at the two vacant tents near the beach, Jack grins at Charles and Eleanor.

"' _Goodnight, young lovers_ '."

Anne smacks his shoulder hard, rolling her eyes and leading the way to their tent with heavy, angry footsteps.

Despite her initial annoyance, Eleanor has the strange feeling that this will end up becoming an inside joke between the four of them, and that they will keep repeating those three words said by Madame Shih.

"I'll go back to the shed and talk to the crew so I can let them know about the rules and give them the instructions. You just wait in the tent and rest."

His tone holds a strange authority, and for some reason, she feels like obeying.

That's what she does.

Everything is dark, and she can't really make out the walls, to determine what the tent is made off.

All she knows is that there's a makeshift bunk on the far end of it, and the mattress feels strangely soft, whatever it is.

Eleanor turns her phone lantern on, setting it on the dirt ground.

Palm fronds and bamboo all around her, just as she suspected. But also some blue canvas. It looks like it's rainproof, so that's good. She paces around for what feels like hours, until the flap is pulled aside and her lover comes into the tent.

"Did they all agree?"

He nods, taking his leather jacket off and setting it on the ground. The muscles of his arms have her full attention for one brief second of weakness.

"Do you think we'll be okay?"

Glancing around their new accommodations briefly, Charles shrugs.

"We're together and alive, aren't we?"

His words make her smile weakly.

But then her eyes become somber.

"Knowing you, I'm well aware you will probably want to drag me into the jungle at some point... Just promise me something. Promise me I won't see the hanging corpses." She speaks in a quiet, somewhat strained voice, walking right into his arms.

"Because you don't want to see a dead body... Or because they're all hanging by their necks?" He asks, and her fingertips brush over his birthmark tenderly as his arms close around her.

"Second option."

He wants to chuckle. To tease her further.

But he just can't joke about this particular subject, not on  _this_  date.

It's already a damn miracle that he's holding her in his arms right now.

"I didn't like it. I didn't like it at all." She says, burying her face in the crook of his neck, and he frowns in confusion. But then she keeps talking. "Sometimes, I had to watch the executions. Three men at the same time, then they took the bodies down and the 'show' started all over again. Every single time, I saw  _you_." She swallows hard, and his jaw clenches while she breathes in his scent.

He doesn't know if he wants to feel bad for her and offer her some comfort, or if he wants to tell her a big, cold " _serves you right_."

"I had nightmares. Every time I had to watch them hang, I had horrible, vivid nightmares. I would wake up screaming in the middle of the night, my tears flowing freely. Of course, my husband would wake up too. He was a light sleeper. He would hold me close and whisper sweet nothings in my ear until I calmed down enough to go back to sleep. It seemed as if he cared. And yet, he never made the link... He never realized my nightmares were caused by... the macabre spectacle I was forced to watch from times to times. Or maybe he simply didn't give a fuck. He  _was_  a sadistic bastard, after all. Still is."

Sighing heavily, Charles lets go of her and heads to the bunk. After pulling his shirt over his head, he just stares at the ground in silence.

Eleanor finds it unsettling, and she carefully makes her way over to join him, sitting on the strange mattress by his side. "Are you going to tell me why you're having trouble breathing today? Don't think I didn't notice-"

"Are you  _kidding_  me?"

His sudden outburst makes her feel as if a knife just slashed her heart open.

Because she was opening up to him just a few seconds ago... And when she does that he's usually gentle, he usually listens to her and offers her comfort, a shoulder to lean on.

He's  _never_  cold like this.  _Never_  rude and angry, looking at her with hate-filled eyes.

Briefly, she tries to remember if she did anything today, anything that could have caused his anger to flare up...

"What?" Her voice comes out broken and shaky, much to her annoyance. But not even the pain in her tone is enough to make his eyes soften.

He actually looks even angrier.

"Eleanor, what day is it today?"

She looks away from his face, thinking about the question and searching her memory for important dates...

Oh,  _shit_.

The anniversary of his execution...

Now it makes perfect sense, why she always used to feel so awful on this day.

What is there to say? What is she supposed to say? She can't find the words, and her eyes fill with tears when she tries to touch his arm and he yanks it away from her reach.

"So this is why-"

"Why I can't fucking breathe properly on this day, ever since I was a newborn baby? Yeah, I have  _you_  to thank for that."

The only sound are the crickets chirping outside, the waves breaking on the beach, and they sit there on the bunk for a long while. He doesn't meet her eyes, but Eleanor keeps staring at his unmoving form. Fighting hard against the urge to touch him.

Should she say she's sorry?

What good would it make, if he never accepts her apologies?

Maybe she shouldn't say anything at all. Maybe he'll be back to normal when this cursed day is behind them.

Maybe...

_Maybe._

Swallowing hard, Eleanor wipes her tears away one last time before getting rid of her jeans, shoes, and moving to lay down on the bunk.

He still sits there for a few long, painful minutes, and she's worried he'll leave.

With all those crazy, violent Spaniards out there... She doesn't want her pirate wandering around alone.

But much to her relief, he eventually lays down too.

She's relieved, but deeply hurt. He makes no move to gather her in his arms, or even to touch her.

When she looks over her shoulder, he has his back to her.

This hurts way more than the punch he delivered to her jaw three centuries ago.

It feels strange to go to sleep like this. She feels cold, depressed...  _unprotected_.

_Serves you right._

Eleanor cries herself to sleep, making sure to keep it silent so he wouldn't notice.

He probably does anyway.

* * *

A couple of hours later, he wakes up with a sharp intake of breath.

His hands are trembling as he moves into a sitting position, his feet touching the dirt ground.

It's scary as fuck, but he had been suffocating in his sleep.

Even now, Charles is still struggling to make his body understand that there's nothing cutting off his airway, nothing around his neck, strangling him to death...

The birthmark hurts like  _hell_.

It's never been this bad.

Every year, on this day, he feels the pain. He feels breathless.

But it's never been this intense.

Is it because his memories are back? Or maybe because this is the first time he has  _her_  with him...

Maybe he needs to put some distance between them, because it's just so strong... He could swear he's hanging again, and it's only getting worse.

With the time difference, in the Bahamas right now it's probably...

The  _exact_  right time.

It feels as if there's a rough material tightening around his neck, making it impossible for him to breathe, and as hard as he tries, he can't go back to normal.

He's about to get to his feet, to leave the tent, hell, maybe even go to the wise Madame Shih for help.

Because he actually feels as if he'll die from the lack of oxygen.

But then those soft hands come to his shoulders, and he hears her voice.

"It's okay. I'm here."

He wants to scoff, to ask if this is supposed to reassure him, to let her hear nothing but acidity in his tone.

But he can't even breathe, let alone talk.

" _Breathe_ , my heart. It's okay."

She sounds so damn desperate. Her voice is shaky and he feels it when one lone tear falls from her cheek to his left shoulder.

"Please, Charles... Just breathe,  _please_."

She's on the verge of breaking, of screaming out for help and waking the whole camp up.

And he'd be lying if he said the raw despair in her voice doesn't break his heart to pieces.

His lungs are  _burning_.

Just as his strength is fading away, his vision starting to go black, he grabs one of her hands -  _stupid_ \- and finally inhales deeply.

Eleanor's choked gasp of relief goes straight to his soul.

She moves from her spot behind him to his side, grasping his fingers with both hands now and staring at his face.

Her cheeks are soaked with her tears, her wide eyes filled with the deepest horror.

"Breathe...  _breathe_." She keeps encouraging him, urging him, and their eyes are locked together as he inhales and exhales slowly, trying not to push himself too hard.

From times to times, it feels as if he'll start suffocating again, and Eleanor is barely holding herself together. He can see it in her eyes, how damn deep her despair is.

His birthmark is still hurting like a bitch when he gets to his feet and walks to the flap.

"Where are you going?"

He wants to give her the cold shoulder, to ignore her question, but the amount of pain and suffering in her broken tone completely disarms him.

"The ocean." It's nothing but a whisper, but she hears it.

"You think it will make you feel better?" He just stands frozen in place, unable to look at her, and she takes a shuddering breath.

"Then take your time. I'll wait here."

He pulls the flap open, stepping out into the jungle. Then for some reason his body betrays him, his  _heart_  betrays him.

He's sure she sees the needy, melancholic look on his face when he meets her eyes.

Her surprise is palpable.

"Want me to come with you?"

That hopeful tone of hers... He wants to push her away, but it's just fucking  _impossible_.

So he offers her a barely perceptible nod and walks away.

* * *

The ocean is glowing around them, those strange, almost glittery lights rippling along with the small waves created with their movements.

He ends up with his arms around her, silence stretching between them. He knows she's crying.

Her mumbled apologies simply keep coming, and he never feels any closer to accepting them. Although he feels the urge to hold her tighter with every kiss she presses to his neck.

"I used to feel awful every year... Around this time. Now it makes sense."

He doesn't answer.

"You... You once said you loved my voice. Didn't you? You said you wanted to hear me using it for other purposes. You said I'd best each and every mermaid in the whole ocean... If I sung."

He remembers that. Drunken words said in the dead of night inside his tent, after he came back from a long, dangerous, but very successful hunt.

She had been so grateful and ecstatic. But also relieved, and they spent so many hours celebrating.

He had wanted to hear her singing back then. So, so much.

It's a desire that's been following him around since the 18th century.

"Why are you bringing that up now?" He finally speaks, feeling the way her lips curve into a smile against the skin of his neck.

"A few years ago, during this same, awful time... I heard a song. A song that held all the words I wish I could have said to you. It's amazing, how well it describes...  _us_. It's been so long. I'm not sure if I remember all of it."

_Is she going to...?_

" _I am an island... You are the ocean, we're so close, we're touching, completely surrounded... But I cannot have you, the way that I want to, cause I am an island, and you are the ocean... No, I cannot have you, I cannot have you without... Drowning..._ "

His eyes slowly fall closed, and he subconsciously holds her tighter.

Finally,  _finally_.

This must be paradise on earth, there's an angel singing to him and it's the most  _beautiful_  thing he has ever heard.

He may not know anything about singing techniques and all that shit, all he knows is that he's holding the most perfect mermaid in his arms.

He'd happily throw his ship into the rocks, in order to keep listening to her voice.

He'd happily drown in the depths of the sea.

" _I cannot have you, cause I am deserted... And you are too deep..._ "

Her voice breaks, but she recovers quickly.

" _I cannot love you... Without losing me._ "

Tears burn in his eyes. The mix of those words and her voice is too much, and he takes a deep breath to calm his emotions as she begins to sing the chorus again.

He could listen to her for a thousand years.

Probably more.

" _I cannot have you, without... Drowning._ "

For some reason, he knows the song is over. He feels as if he's heard it before.

And he's kissing her lips as soon as she sings that last word.

He can't forgive her. But at least they can write a new story with no betrayals.

Her tears flow freely and she wraps her legs around his hips, clinging to him for dear life, responding to his kiss with all the passion she can muster.

There's no hiding behind little games. No fight for control.

There's only  _love_ , and the joy of two reunited souls.

* * *

Seems like they're sharing an important, deep moment over there.

Vasyl lets out a heavy sigh, watching the couple from the jungle.

How he envies that young man. How he wishes he could have  _this_.

Leaving the love of his life behind,  _abandoning_  her, will always be his deepest regret. He left her when she needed him the most, when  _they_  needed him the most.

And there's no way to turn back time.

Things are obviously starting to get steamy between the two lovebirds, so he averts his eyes. Voyeurism is not his thing.

For some reason, as he makes his way back to his tent, his heart feels strangely light.

It's not like him to care for the well-being and happiness of a stranger... In fact, he probably cares about himself, Madame Shih, and that's it.

Then why does it bring a smile to his face, to remember that happy couple, that young man he just met... To know that he's perfectly content in blondie's arms?

It's weird.

All he knows is that he wishes Charles all the happiness and love in the world.

And this is not like him at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Shih Island lol
> 
> I HAD to pay a little tribute to this song... And this was the best way I found to do so.
> 
> If anyone's wondering, it's called "Island", by Svrcina, and it's a masterpiece.
> 
> And of course, this chapter was inspired by the BEST Vane/Eleanor video ever made. With that song. It's pure perfection, and I dedicate this one to the creator of said video, I know you can use a little cheering up at the moment, love ;) Hopefully this will put a smile on your face :)


	38. You are the Ocean

**_Havana_ **

**_23 years ago_ **

_"You're back." She speaks calmly, staring at the giant who had just walked through her door._

_There is no small body in his arms. No little boy hiding behind his legs, he's not holding a tiny hand in his._

_Her confusion is genuine, for once, and she frowns at him, already fearing the worst._

_"Where's the boy?"_

_His eyes fill with pain, and he shakes his head. "Charles is safe. But he can't be near me, or I would be putting a target on his back. I had to leave him behind. For now, this is the way things have to be."_

_It's the first time she's seeing this man in seven years. And even though she knew from the beginning that their paths would eventually cross again, this still feels surreal. Part of her, a small part, had believed she'd never have to face him..._

_Her feelings for Edward have not changed. She knows they never will. But she wishes she didn't have to see his face again... Because now she may be forced to tell him the truth, and for once in her life, she's scared._

_"During the last seven years... I have been doing some research. Looking for a place where... I would be able to start fresh. To build an army for myself. To be, once again... Unstoppable." He walks closer, until he's standing right in front of her. She hopes he won't see just how nervous she is on the inside. "That way, if anyone tries to hurt me, to hurt my boy... I can take care of them. I will rise to the top. I will go back for Charles, when the right time comes. So he and I can finally thrive."_

_"You will go back to your old ways."_

_A smile tugs at his lips._

_"I have a few loyal followers already. We're leaving for Africa tomorrow."_

_It's the only confirmation she needs._

_The Asian shakes her head, opening her mouth to speak, but he interrupts her._

_"I know who you are."_

_Her facial expression remains impassive; she merely tilts her head to the side._

_"As I've said... I did some research." He reaches out to stroke her cheek. His eyes are glinting with determination._

_And her heart is already breaking with the mere thought of crushing his hopes, his plans, his dreams._

_His feelings._

_"Come with me. You were the best of them all. We can be invincible together. I know you want this."_

_It's a good thing she was already born knowing how to hold back tears._

_"Come. We will make our own survival, our own freedom... For days, for months, forever."_

_She has to scoff._

_If only he knew how ironic this is. This situation, this speech._

_"No."_

_His face falls, all the hope vanishing from his eyes._

_"Why?"_

_If she tried to explain, he wouldn't understand. He wouldn't comprehend her reasons, her motives, he wouldn't understand she has another path to follow._

_She knows exactly what needs to be done._

_So her fears are concretized, and she puts on a cold, emotionless mask._

_"I was the one who told your enemies where to find Naomi and the boy."_

_Silence hangs heavy in the air as his large hands slowly drop from her delicate shoulders._

_The amount of pain in his eyes is opening a hole in her heart._

_"The one who told them you fled to the US."_

_She's forcing herself to smirk._

_He has a hurt look on his face, the look of those who are betrayed by a loved one. But that soon gives place to raw anger._

_"My sister is dead because of you! I don't get to raise my nephew, my **son,**  because of  **you!** "_

_It's a roar. His powerful voice echoes through the house, and if she was anyone else, she'd probably be afraid. But the medium knows he would never be capable of laying a finger on her._

_"Edward, he had a fate to fulfill in that city. And it would have been impossible for him to do so with you around."_

_" **What**  fate?"_

_He's so close to breaking. His fist connects with the nearest wall once, twice, and she wonders how he does that without crushing his knuckles in the process._

_"One day, you will know."_

_He lets out a hollow, humorless laugh, then walks to the door._

_When he glances at her over his shoulder, she knows it's the closest they will ever get to a proper farewell._

_Once he leaves, once she's alone, the Asian sinks to the floor. For the first time in her entire life, she actually feels the burn of tears in her eyes. But she doesn't let them escape._

_Her heart is in pieces. But this is the way things are supposed to be._

_She knew it from the start, she knew that Edward wouldn't let go of the past, of this war. She knew he would eventually go back to his old ways, because he's insistent and stubborn like this. Unable to think about his other options. Of course he would stay focused on his plans, determined to follow through with them._

_He's made his choice, and there's nothing she can do._

_They're in the new word... He chose to stick to his past. To what he knows._

_And as for her, well, she will **adapt.**_

* * *

**Shih Island**

**Present Days**

Bringing his lips to her neck, he rubs his stubble over her skin; being mindful of the night before. His arms tighten around her middle and she stirs softly, stretching lazily like a cat. Even though her back is pressed to his front, he just knows she's smiling with her eyes still closed. After kissing her skin softly a few times, he lets his tongue flick at her earlobe and she finally chuckles.

Just as he suspected, there's a bright smile on her face as Eleanor turns in his arms to face him, immediately bringing one hand to rest over his heart.

The relief in her eyes makes him frown, even though there's a smile on his lips too.

"Your heartbeat." She explains before he can ask. "Part of me was worried... That something would go wrong and you'd end up suffocating again. How are you feeling now? Is your breathing back to normal?"

Her concern always touches him deeply. This devoted look comes to his face as he nods, grabbing her hand and dropping a kiss to her knuckles.

"You had nothing to worry about. I told you, this happens every year... and I live."

"I just don't want anything taking you away from me again."

Those pure confessions still catch him off guard from times to times.

But that doesn't mean they're unwelcome.

"Nothing will. And there's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do to keep me from coming back to you."

Her eyes glint even as she frowns at him.

"Where did that come from?"

"I know you're worried, about the Spaniards." Her smile finally vanishes, and she lowers her eyes while he plays with a strand of her hair. "You don't have to be."

"You won't step foot near those borders until we have an efficient, perfect plan." She mumbles, and he can see just how much this is bothering her. But Charles did make his point back at Phuket, and she finally understood that there's no stopping him.

Wounded or not, he will do things his own way, he will do what he wants.

_Just like her._

"Did you still love me?" Eleanor asks after a few minutes of peaceful silence, and he scowls in confusion when she meets his eyes. "After what happened with Abbie... After they took me from the island, and when I returned... When I went to see you in that cell. Did you still love me? Even if just a little bit?"

He sighs heavily, avoiding her eyes at all costs.

"I didn't love you ' _a little bit_ '. My feelings never changed, only the hatred burned stronger than the love at some point."

For some reason, his words bring a sincere, loving smile to her lips.

And they don't say any other words about that subject.

The camp is already awake, they can hear people talking, laughing and going about their daily chores outside.

Eleanor is curious to see how this paradise looks in daylight, so she makes a move to get up.

Only to receive a reminder of the previous night, a familiar soreness between her thighs that warns her not to make any abrupt movements for the next couple of days.

"I think we got a little carried away."

She tries not to grimace, sitting up and pushing him so he would stop staring at her naked chest and move.

"How bad is it?"

She's probably the only person in this world who would be capable of detecting that hint of guilt and self-hatred in his voice.

It never fails to make her smile like an idiot.

"I'm okay. And it's nothing, really. What can we do if a certain someone is... overly blessed."

This smug smirk comes to his face immediately and she just has to chuckle.

"You never complained."

Pressing a quick kiss to his lips, she lets her fingers brush over his birthmark.

"And I never will."

He keeps staring at her like the love-struck fool he is as she crawls over his legs to get out of the bunk and pick her clothes from the ground.

And then the question she  _knew_  was bound to come sooner or later finally slips from his lips.

"Who's bigger?"

Eleanor stops what's she's doing, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. There's a smile tugging at her lips as she shakes her head.

Forget all the battles this man has fought. Forget how she came right back to his arms, choosing him over her ex-husband over and over again.

Of  _course_  it had to come to this.

_Men..._

Turning around to face him, she scoffs at the expectant look on his face.

"Really?"

He just shrugs and she rolls her eyes, trying hard not to smile.

"Let's just say he  _pales_  in comparison to you. Are you happy now?"

He smirks like an idiot, giving her one of those wicked looks of his, and she turns her back to him. So he wouldn't see her bright smile.

"You're disgusting."

He doesn't say another word, finally getting to his feet too. His eyes stay glued to her as they dress in silence.

"When you go to the ship today, with Vasyl, Anne and the crew... Can you get me some of my stuff?"

"What do you need, Princess?"

His tone is teasing and the nickname pisses her off while also making her heart flutter. Which is also annoying as hell.

'My bathing suits. Some lighter clothes. My toothbrush,  _please_. That little handbag that contains my makeup supplies and my birth control pills... And let's not forget those little foil packages you loathe so much."

Just as she expected, he groans in protest, stopping them in their walk just as they're about to leave the tent.

"But last night-"

" _Last night_  was a mistake that should  _not_  be repeated. That was very irresponsible of us."

His eye roll is almost enough to make her lose the stern look and smile.

"You worry too damn much. I pulled out every time, remember? No harm done."

Her eyes narrow and she scoffs in disbelief.

_The nerve of this man..._

"That method can fail, you know."

He grins like the asshole he is, and she doesn't try to move away when he leans in to kiss her lips just briefly.

"Not with  _experts_  like me."

He doesn't escape through the flap in time to avoid her slap to his shoulder, and they're both smiling as they make their way to the beach.

Just as she expected, the place looks even better during the day, and not intimidating in the slightest.

They are now able to see all of the tents, there are about 14 of them in total. All made of bamboo, palm fronds, rope and that strange, blue canvas.

The bay looks like a painting of paradise.

The water is of a vibrant blue, even more impressive than the Bahamas sea, and she's in awe.

The Ranger is still right where they left her, thankfully, and Eleanor breathes a sigh of relief upon seeing that she's alright.

Reaching the white sand, they catch sight of Jack and Anne talking to Madame Shih in the shadow of a palm tree.

As they approach them, they can hear the Asian speaking.

"...because most of the men are gathering fruit for the celebrations tonight."

"You don't hunt?" Anne asks with a soft scowl on her face, barely even sparing Charles and Eleanor a glance.

"We only eat fish and fruit. When the members want meat of other kind, they procure it at the mainland. Hunting is also forbidden, I forgot to mention that last night."

Madame Shih offer them a polite smile when they come to a stop beside her, then she nods towards the Ranger.

"Please take care of the guns as soon as you can. I spoke to the Spaniards and they will be here by nightfall. We don't want them to get rid of our secret weapons, do we?"

Charles nods briefly at her request and she leaves them without saying another word.

Anne watches her go for a moment, arms crossed over her chest. "No meat. The fuck is her problem?"

"One is perfectly capable of surviving off fish and fruit, in case you didn't know." Jack tells her, sighing heavily before sitting on the sand. The other three do the same, and only then Eleanor notices the basket in his hand.

"What's that?"

He grins at her, shrugging while the moody redhead beside him rolled her eyes.

"Breakfast. You're welcome."

It's a mix of mangoes, raspberries and some other yellow fruits she doesn't recognize.

Only now she realizes just how hungry she is.

The four eat in peaceful silence, staring at the seagulls that eventually come closer to them. Jack keeps tugging at a few strands of red hair and chuckling every time Anne glares daggers at him.

It's one of those nice moments Eleanor takes to her heart.

God only knows what awaits them, so this peace is like a gift from heaven.

They soon realize that Madame Shih wasn't joking when she spoke about the nudist habits of this community. All four of them watch as two young women run to the ocean, wearing nothing more than a few weird looking fabric bracelets.

"You know what the best part is? All four of us can admire the view, if you know what I mean." Jack says, winking at them with a conspiring look on his face, and Anne finally smirks.

"It was actually common, back in the time. Those drunken pirates would swim naked almost every night. At least this is better." Anne says when they focus back on the breakfast they were sharing, but Eleanor nearly chokes on the fruit.

"Ugh,  _please_ , don't remind me of..."

Sensing a story, Jack raises an eyebrow.

"Is there something we should know?"

She remains silent, eyes lowered to the sand, and Charles chuckles.

Of course the bastard knows exactly what she's thinking about.

Of course he'll be an asshole and share it with the other couple.

"One time, when she and I were coming back from a night swim, there was this lone figure walking the beach and singing drunkenly... And he had no clothes on."

Jack frowns, shrugging briefly. "So what's new, that used to happen all the time-"

" _Randall_. It was Randall."

The two stare at them in silence for a moment, and then it begins.

Eleanor is sure this is the first time she ever hears Anne's laughter.

It's a sound so foreign to her ears, and she can't help but smile as the redhead laughs her ass off with Jack

He recovers first.

"Darling, I'm sorry to laugh at your misfortune, but that's too much for me - you saw Randall  _naked_?"

With a groan, Eleanor moves so she's laying with her head on Charles' lap, then buries her face on his left thigh.

Jack watches her, chuckling and shaking his head in amusement. "Priceless. Absolutely  _priceless_."

"Karma's a bitch, cunt."

"What became of Randall, anyway?" Jack asks once they have calmed down, although Anne still has the ghost of a smirk on her lips. "In this life, I mean. Didn't Madi once mention she met him, back in LA?"

"John took care of taking him -  _and_  the cat - to Nassau a couple of months ago. They're still partners, playing cons in the streets. It drives Madi insane."

She rolls her eyes in annoyance,grabbing another raspberry. "I know she loves him, but I just can't help but think that my sister deserves better."

A new group walks by them, men and women this time.

All naked, too.

"Any of you think about adapting to the local trend?" Anne asks, and Eleanor shakes her head immediately.

But Charles just shrugs, and she narrows her eyes at him.

"You better  _not_."

Her warning tone makes him smirk. "Is there something I should be ashamed of?"

"No. Nothing at all, and that's exactly why you can't do that."

He responds by pulling his shirt over his head, and she glares dagger at him while Jack and Anne watch the scene curiously.

His teasing smirk falls when she threatens to do the same thing, reaching for the hem of her tanktop.

"Let's just go take care of the damn guns already." He grumbles, getting to his feet and walking away.

Anne actually smirks at Eleanor and the blonde's small victory before leaving their spot beneath the palm tree and rushing to walk at her defeated mentor's side.

"This is going to be interesting." Jack says, and she grins at him.

* * *

Hours later, when they're back in their tent, Eleanor sighs happily. Now that the place is filled with her stuff, she feels way more comfortable.

Now she just wishes a certain idiot would stop staring at her.

Madame Shih has given them some advice about how to dress for the occasion, they need to look like innocent tourists when faced with the Spaniards. And it seems Charles is having fun seeing her wardrobe choice.

A light blue top that shows off most of her stomach and brings out her eyes. A black skirt reaching to her ankles, with a slit that exposes her left leg when she walks. And the object of Charles' amusement; a delicate flower crown she received from one of the women, as a welcome gift.

Anne received one too, but hers is probably torn to pieces on the ground of her and Jack's tent by now.

"She did say we need to appear innocent.  _Stop_  looking at me like that." Eleanor complains, laying on her stomach and watching as he got ready too.

"Everything you do to drive me insane... You will pay for all of your little games."

He actually laughs, shaking his head in dismissal. It makes her smirk. "Oh, you  _will_. Mark my words."

It seems she feels like being a social butterfly tonight, because not even two minutes of silence go by until she speaks again.

"I was supposed to go to London a couple of weeks ago. But I warned my grandparents I'd be unable to go this year. I told them I started a business in the Bahamas recently."

He shrugs, unable to stop himself from smirking at how adorable she looks.

"You didn't lie."

"Will we go, in November?" She asks, staring up at him from the bunk, and he pauses momentarily.

"' _We_ '? You expect to drag me to some fancy, proper London house? With tea cups and all that shit?"

"I don't ' _expect to_ '... I will."

He rolls his eyes as she gets to her feet and walks closer to him.

"We'll see about that."

Just as Charles puts his shirt on, Madame Shih pulls the flap aside. The serious look on her face lets them know what she has to say.

"They're here. It's time."

For the briefest of moments, Eleanor suddenly feels on the verge of a panic attack.

* * *

**Los Angeles**

Her baby is crawling. He's 6 months old and he's  _crawling._

Sarah can't believe it. The pediatrician is just as amazed as she is. Considering all the problems Aiden went through, they were expecting him to be a little slow, not the other way around.

He's been an angel.

Strangely, since Woodes left... He's been considerably less cranky, rarely crying or even fussing. He's been sleeping well. Feeding well. Developing at a mad pace and making new achievements every single day.

He smiles all the time. He laughs at everything. He does anything he can to get his mommy's attention.

And everyone else's.

Every time she goes out with him, he shrieks and reaches out for anyone who smiles or looks him in the eye. People delight him.

Sarah can't help but wonder if Aiden would still act like this if his father came back to them.

He's just so active. He loves games.

And he's starting to "communicate", in his own adorable way.

Every time he sees a dog, he points and goes "bow-wow", and this suddenly seems like the world's most intelligent behavior to the proud mother.

He loves dogs. Last week, Mason took them to the mansion so Aiden could see his grandmother.

Initially, he liked to interact with her, as usual. But since he's crawling now, one minute of distraction was all it took for them to lose sight of the little boy.

But he didn't get too far, and what was his grandmother's horror when they found him smearing paint all over the old woman's prized dogs and saying "bow-wow" repeatedly.

Well, it was her own fault to distract him with one of her paint tubes. Of course he would find a way to open it and create his own masterpiece.

Sarah never liked that woman anyway, so it was fun to watch her despair over something so innocent.

She suspects they won't be invited to the mansion for a long while.

As if it even matters. Sighing softly, she strokes her son's hair one last time before stepping away from the crib and leaving the nursery quietly so she wouldn't disturb his sleep.

It's four in the morning and she can't keep her eyes closed.

So she stays up, wandering the dark, empty house.

Always ending up in front of that damn piece of furniture, in the hall.

The wedding picture has been resting on it since she came to live in this place. She knows it so well, every inch of it, and yet, she always spends minutes analyzing it.

Her dress. His suit. The beautiful flower arrangements all around them.

That bright smile on Woodes' face.

The sight of it used to make her smile too. Now it only brings pain.

She's not sure where she gathers the courage. The will. But all of a sudden, she's reaching for the framed picture and turning it face down.

It's so liberating, and she's shaking as she makes her way up the stairs, heading to her room.

Not even five minutes pass and she's rushing down the staircase again, sobbing and desperately returning the photograph to its previous position.

Now, for the first time ever, Woodes' smile seems to be mocking her.

She will never be free.

_Does she even want to?_

For now, Sarah just knows one thing.

She  _doesn't want_  her boy growing up without a father.

* * *

**Shih Island**

Jack's hand comes to rest on her shoulder and she forces a smile for his sake, actually grateful for his presence.

She feels so fucking  _tense_.

It's been two hours since the Spaniards arrived, and Eleanor couldn't possibly be more uncomfortable with this.

She tries to pay attention to the cheerful dances, the simple, yet beautiful decorations of leaves and exotic flowers.

Her eyes keep moving from the two armed men talking to Madame Shih, to that darkened path that connects the beach to the shed.

"Are you as worried as I am?" She asks, meeting Jack's eyes again, and his reassuring smile falters.

"They will be just fine. You know it was only a safety measure, nothing will go wrong."

Scowling, she tries to see the water, the ship, but the torches are only enough to illuminate part of the beach.

Truth be told, they're both nervous as hell, even though Jack is trying to be strong for her.

Four Spaniards came here. The other two are currently checking the Ranger, and although all the guns are safely buried somewhere in the camp already, Vasyl and Charles were worried the farmers would find something they considered a threat.

Violence would erupt, so when the time came for her pirate and Anne to lead the two Spaniards to the ship, he decided to leave Eleanor in here with Jack.

And now, almost an hour later, they're burning with impatience.

This is one of the reasons why she was so hesitant to give in to her feelings, three centuries ago.

She worried about him, about his safety, whenever he left the island. And she knew this would only be worse if she surrendered to the love she felt.

_But nowadays..._

He's the  _ocean,_  and she's finally allowing herself to drown.

So all that worry for his well being has grown immensely, sometimes she still can't believe it.

It's the best and the worst feeling in the world, all at the same time.

20 more torturous minutes go by...

Her pride is forgotten when two familiar figures emerge from the shadows, one tall and imposing, the other smaller and - seemingly - delicate. At first glance, that is.

As soon as they step foot in the shed, she's rushing into his arms.

Somewhat angry with herself, Eleanor closes her eyes as he strokes her hair and whispers in her ear.

"All clear."

Breathing a sigh of relief, she steps away from him, and even when the group of four are settled on a bench away from the farmers, they are careful to keep their voices down.

"Where did you bury the guns, anyway?"

"Behind Jack and Anne's tent, the terrain is soft and we were able to dig deep. They're safe."

She nods, and he notices how nervous she still is.

"Something wrong?"

She opens her mouth to speak, but Jack answers the question for her.

"While the two of you were in the ship, Shih approached us. The farmers who stayed behind wanted to interrogate us. We did good, of course. Fooled them perfectly. But... We also discovered their surname in the process."

"And?"

"Ramirez." Eleanor says, the briefest hint of fear in her eyes.

The name is familiar enough. Charles scowls, waiting for her to speak more.

" _Ramirez_... Have you forgotten? Diego Ramirez, the man you murdered. The one who looked so much like my killer."

His jaw clenches briefly, and he shakes his head. "Ramirez is a common surname."

"But it  _is_  strange that this family rules he Island, isn't it?"

It is.

It really is.

Charles knows he isn't afraid of anything. He's stronger than this. But right now, when he's faced with this possibility...

Well, this may be new territory. It may be pure insanity, but... Whether they're close to her killer or not, Charles will fight and do his very best.

He needs to prove his worth. Not to anyone else, not to his best friend, his protégée, or even Eleanor. He needs to fight in this war, for his own sake.

But most of all... He needs to correct the past.

He needs to make sure no one will touch  _her_.

Three centuries ago, the woman he loves perished because of the Spaniards. This is his chance to rewrite that story.

He will do it. No matter what.

* * *

"Isn't it strange? That the Island takes her name, but she's not in power? I find it curious." She says, when they're slowly making their way back to the tent hours later.

"Maybe there is more to this story than what we know."

Her hand seeks his, almost shyly.

_So fucking adorable._

Every time she does this, it's too much for his heart.

"I must say I'm worried. Most of the men and women of this community act like stupid tourists. Vasyl said they lacked the strength to make this revolution happen, but I had no idea it was this bad."

"Then we'll try to expand our army. When we can visit the mainland."

Crickets chirp all around them, hidden in the bushes, and Eleanor rests her head on his shoulder for a second.

"I thought I saw a familiar face... Twice. During the celebrations. But the guy was elusive, so I couldn't really be sure."

Charles doesn't answer, and when they are just a few feet away from their tent, footsteps sound behind them.

Even though he knows the Spaniards have already left, he tenses up, ready for a fight.

And then a voice they had not heard in centuries reaches their ears.

"Miss Guthrie? Eleanor?"

They pause, and she has a frown on her face as they turn around to face the man who had caught up to them.

For one second, there's silence.

And then she smiles, letting out a short, quiet laugh, her eyes filled with disbelief and surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because it's been a while since the last cliffhanger and I'm cruel like that ;)


	39. "That" Woman

She's aware of Charles watching them from the dark jungle, and even though she can't see him, she knows he's burning with jealousy.

He  _was_  always jealous of this man, after all.

"How did you end up here? When did your memories come back?" She asks, trying not to look at that faint mark in the middle of his neck.

The image of that psycho's sword cutting through the flesh comes to her mind and she does her best to ignore it.

With a brief smile, O'Malley looks from her face to the ocean as they walk the beach.

"I heard about the Island five years ago. Back then, I was a young man in need of adventure. Madame Shih found me in the mainland and took me in. She needed someone strong enough to defend the community from the wild animals... they were trying to invade the camp at the time. As for my memories, they came back about an year ago. I was very confused, but Madame Shih explained everything to me. Everything about past lives. Then it all made sense."

"I was confused too. It's insane, isn't it?"

He nods and they come to a stop, the ocean breeze stroking their faces as they sit down on the sand.

"It is. I was very skeptical at first. But the other option was to believe that I was going mental."

"I would have probably stuck to that second option... But I wasn't alone when I remembered everything." She glances back at the jungle, the corners of her lips twitching up.

"I was surprised to see you, but what made my jaw drop was to realize who were your companions." He smirks briefly when she meets his eyes again. "I always knew there was this  _thing_  between you and Captain Vane, everyone did... But to see that you're now  _living_  with him and his crew? It was hard to believe my own eyes."

"Trust me, sometimes I still can't believe it myself. But we have been through a lot, this time around. Many, many events over the last few months have brought us closer. All four of us. Believe it or not, even Bonny is starting to warm up to me."

His eyebrows raise in surprise and he chuckles, shaking his head.

"I never doubted your ability to conquer, ma'am. Places  _and_  people alike."

The words have a nice effect on her ego, and she can't help but agree completely.

"When did you first see me? I heard a whisper of my name the night we arrived, it wasn't just my imagination, was it?"

"I was certain you didn't have your memories back. When I saw you hand in hand with him. Didn't seem like something you would do..."

Of course. Of course he was surprised, just like everyone else. They  _are_  defying all odds and making the universe gape in awe, after all.

"... but as I watched you, plotting with them, when I learned about the name of your ship, I realized that yes, you knew exactly who you were. So I was just waiting for the right time to approach you." He glances over his shoulder at the jungle for a second. "He didn't seem too happy when we started to talk."

Fighting against a smirk, Eleanor shakes her head dismissively. "He's a big pile of jealousy, but I can handle him. It's okay."

Satisfied with that answer, the former bodyguard straightens up, a curious glint in his eyes.

"What happened, after I was gone? What became of the island? I assume the two of you ruled over that place together, knowing you-" He trails off upon noticing the somber look on her face, and Eleanor lowers her eyes to the sand.

"Nothing of the sort, actually. He killed Low for me, you'll probably be happy about that, but shortly after... We disagreed on a lot, and things went downhill. He took something so very important from me, and I retaliated by... taking his life, pretty much."

She doesn't look at his face, but he's silent, and probably staring at her in disbelief.

"Now how in the world did you manage to do such a thing?"

"I didn't murder him with my own bare hands. Let's just say that I... pulled the strings to make it happen."

He probably senses how painful this is for her to talk about, so there are a few moments of silence before his next question.

"I can't believe he granted you forgiveness."

Her hollow chuckle drifts off into the night air. "And who says he did? We are coexisting, that's enough for me. What I did to him... I admit, I went too far."

It's probably strange for him; to hear such melancholy in her voice, and O'Malley decides to change topics after taking a look around and making sure they were alone on the beach.

"Bonny and Vane will be joining our army, then?"

Eleanor hesitates for a second and he shrugs. "It's okay. I'm one of the few who are familiar with Madame Shih's plans."

Moving closer to him, she tries to keep her voice as quiet as possible. "How many people can we count on? I saw nothing but stupid tourists up to this point. Except for you and that shady Russian, of course."

"Our soldiers are in disguise. We don't want to alarm those Spanish fools. But even with that crew of yours and the other two, we are still outnumbered."

Just the answer she feared.

Exhaling deeply, Eleanor stares at their ship, barely visible in the dark of the night. "Then what are we going to do? Where are we going to find decent soldiers? We are doomed to fail, unless we expand this army."

"All in due time, ma'am. It's what our leader always says. We have been planning this revolution for a long while now, and finding new members for our army throughout the years."

"Except that time is a luxury you-  _we_  don't have anymore. Shih has already said that things are becoming more and more dangerous, and we will probably need to act soon."

He considers her for a moment, then forces a smile. "Well, then we just might have to count on luck and our wits rather than strength."

A sudden thought comes to his mind then, and he raises an eyebrow at her. "Please tell me you have no plans of taking over Madame Shih's throne, when all of this is over."

This man knows her. Eleanor has to smile.

He may know her, but this time he has nothing to worry about.

"We don't plan on staying too long, once the Spaniards are dealt with. We'll just go back home."

He nods, actually breathing a sigh of relief. But she knows the questions are not over just yet.

"Wey did you come here? Why take part on a war that isn't yours?"

"We needed shelter. Blackbeard's out for my blood."

His eyes widen briefly and silence stretches for a while, until Eleanor gets to her feet.

"I have a proposition for you. If we are successful, in a few months... When Blackbeard is out of the picture, when we set sail to finally go home. Would you like to join our crew and come with us?"

"By home, do you mean...?"

She smiles wide at the mere thought of seeing that place again.

"Yes. We had the tavern rebuilt. It's one of the most successful tourist attractions, nowadays. You should see it. Work for me again. Would you like that?"

He averts his eyes, thinking for a few seconds. Then this sincere smile plays on his lips.

"As long as there are no more psychos running around in your tavern, ma'am. I would love to return home."

She knows he's joking, but she should probably tell him about Low sooner or later. For now, however, Eleanor just allows herself to smile wide, reaching out to seal their arrangement with a handshake.

"It's good to have you back."

* * *

"Happy to have your bodyguard back, are you?"

That rough voice says as soon as she steps foot inside their tent, and she rolls her eyes automatically.

Some moonlight filters in through a few cracks in the canvas, so she can barely see him. He's laying on the bunk, the sheet he had brought from the ship covering him up to his hips. Although she knows he's probably naked underneath the fabric, as usual.

"Stop that right now, you jealous freak." She warns him, walking over to sit on the bunk near his feet.

Reaching to take off her sandals, she looks at his face. Those deep blue irises seem to glow in the dark, like always.

"He was always near you, always following you around while you kept me at arm's length. What did you expect?"

"For God's sake." With a heavy sigh, Eleanor tries to pull the blue top over her head, only to frown in confusion when he stops her.

"You look  _delicious_  in blue." Is his simple explanation, and she scoffs.

"Well,  _finally_ , something both you and my ex-husband agree on. Never thought I'd live to see the day."

Ignoring his low growl of annoyance, she gets rid of the long skirt and sets it aside.

"Did he try anything?" Charles' suspicious voice cuts the silence again and she actually slaps her hand to her forehead.

"Lord, grant me the patience. Grant me the  _patience_ , because if you give me a rope instead, I will do something stupid."

He's not intimidated in the slightest, reaching out to trace the scars on her right thigh. Although he can't see them in the dark, Charles knows exactly where each one of them is located by now.

"How come you were getting along with Max, and you feel the urge to act like a caveman towards my former bodyguard?"

She's barely able to see him shrug, moving her legs up on the bunk too.

"I like Max."

"Since when?"

He's silent for a couple of seconds, and when he speaks again, his voice sounds much more serious and sincere.

"Since I learned about how she took care of you, while I was away. Since all those times when she would do her very best to keep you away from the governor." He reaches for her hand, caressing her fingers slowly and meeting her eyes again. She can see some pain shining in those breathtaking blue orbs. "Since I looked at the two of you for the last time and I realized... that my dying wish was for her to keep you safe, happy... loved."

Eleanor is stunned into silence after the sudden confessions, but she moves closer to him, almost subconsciously.

"Do you really mean that?"

"You wanted to know what we were talking about, back in the Maldives. Here's the answer now."

She can't help but smile.

Now close enough to make out his whole face, she lets her fingertips trail over his cheekbones, his jawline. Then her hand settles over his heart.

"And to think that I used to doubt your feelings. To think that all you wanted was to have me as your possession."

"You'd be confusing me for a certain someone."

Chuckling softly, she nods in agreement. His eyes challenge her silently as she leans in closer. "As for my bodyguard... Try not to be too paranoid. There's no reason for you to be jealous of an old friend, an old, loyal employee with whom I never shared any sort of romantic intimacy-"

"You're serious?"

He sounds so honestly surprised, hopeful and eager, that she stops talking immediately and a frown comes to her face.

"Wait, you thought... You actually  _thought_  something had happened between the two of us at some point?"

He shrugs again, averting his eyes and squeezing her thigh softly. "He was always near you, after we drifted apart. I thought it was some cruel game of yours."

Scoffing, she grips the anchor pendant.

"I honestly had a lot more on my mind, much more important stuff to do... Instead of wasting my time making a pirate jealous." Pausing for a moment, she tries not to let any emotions other than contempt show on her voice. "Unlike a certain someone who spent weeks terrorizing the brothel. Once the whores made sure I wouldn't kill them, that is."

Despite her efforts, she knows he notices it. How much that actually hurt her at the time.

And she also knows that the way he tenderly grabs her hand and locks his fingers with hers is the closest thing she will get to an apology.

With a barely perceptible smile, she leans in further, stopping herself just as their lips are about to touch, so she could whisper the news to him.

"He's our newest crew member, by the way."

His indignation is palpable, but he did make it very clear from day one, that she held just the same amount of authority as him when it came to making decisions about the ship and the crew.

And when she finally kisses him, her hand leaving the necklace to trail down his abdomen, all his annoyance flies out the window

Or rather, out the tent flap.

* * *

His free hand grabs the edge of the desk tightly as he listens to his brother's words.

He's almost crushing the damn phone.

_"I refuse to encourage your madness. You have a job over here, a son who needs you-"_

"That is not what I asked. I asked to speak with that piece of filth who's trapped in our basement. Did she escape? Or what, did you forget to feed her, and she starved to death?"

There's silence on the other side of the line, and Woodes knows that his brother is choosing his words carefully.

_"I will not say a word about the girls. They may have escaped or... they could be still in the basement, chained down just as you left them."_

"Mason-" He tries to warn his brother, but the older man hangs up on him.

Clenching his jaw in anger, he almost throws the phone against the nearest wall. But the device is filled with treasures, pictures he took of his beautiful jewel during the time they spent together in this new life.

Anger is coursing through his system, but he opens one of the pictures, one of his favorites.

Her peaceful, sleeping face. His suit jacket around her shoulders, her hands subconsciously holding the expensive fabric close to her body, to fight off the cold.

The night of their first date, when she fell asleep in his car. He couldn't resist taking this picture, once they reached her father's mansion.

Why the hell did he have to leave her on that damned island? He should have forced her to go with him. He should have never left her alone.

All his regrets, all the guilt, all those horrible feelings have been attacking him nonstop and sometimes, he does feel as if he's going mad. Just like Mason says.

But it's not true. He's just a man in love. Determined to go to the ends of the earth to protect the woman he has sworn to love for all eternity.

Sighing, he runs a hand through his unruly hair. As usual, staring at that picture has helped him to calm down, and he's thinking clearly again.

He knows why his brother has planted that cruel doubt in him. Mason is trying to lure him back to LA, then he will probably try to keep him from leaving again.

He needs to speak to Max. He needs to get more information.

They're close to South America, close to Brazil, and he feels completely lost. His plan to search every continent, every country and every port seems more and more impossible with each passing day.

Acting on despair is never a good thing, and it's exactly what he's doing. He needs to be rational again, for  _her_  sake.

He could spend years searching like this, decades, and still never intercept the Ranger. The world is huge, the oceans are vast, and he can't count solely on luck.

He just prays Mason has kept his promise and that Max is still locked away in the basement, alive. It kills him to even think about stopping his searches, but it might be the only way. He must go back home. To interrogate that woman again and see if he can get a more precise location out of her. If she will tell him where that monster really went.

But Mason disapproves of this whole thing. By now, he could have gotten rid of Max and the other little pest already.

There's only one way to know.

Letting out a shuddering breath, Woodes makes his decision.

His index finger touches the phone screen, her picture, her face. His eyes glint with unshed tears of grief and despair as he utters out something that takes him three hundred years back in time.

"I'm  _sorry_."

* * *

"He's coming in two weeks. He told Mary." Abigail says from the table, and he detects the excitement in her voice.

Of course, Billy knows exactly who she's talking about, and his jaw clenches automatically. The idea of parting with this girl is already painful, but when he remembers that it will be  _Flint_  who will take her away...

Not wanting to ruin her good mood, he forces a smile.

"Are you ready to become an adult in the eyes of the law? How does that feel?"

She shrugs, closing her book as he walks over to sit across from her.

"I don't really care. I just hope everything will work out. My lawyer, she's taking care of things already."

He notices the way her eyes soften when she talks about this woman, and a soft frown comes to his face. "You seem to like her."

"I do. Very much. She was the only person, besides Eleanor, who was nice to me when I was little. She's my friend and I trust her enough to put my future in her hands."

Billy's smile falls and he offers her a sympathetic look. "You were a pretty lonely child, huh?"

"I guess. I was home-schooled, at first. I just wanted to go to school like a normal kid and make friends my age. So when I turned 14, Eleanor encouraged me to stomp foot, stand up to my dad, and I managed to convince him. It was hard to get used to it at first, and I had some trouble making friends. But then I was just fine."

There's just something about this girl... He doesn't know what makes her so fascinating, if it's her beautiful doe eyes, her facial expressions, the way her lips move when she talks, her voice, her alluting diction...

He could listen to her for hours on end and never get bored.

"And what about those friends, do you miss them?"

She lets out a hollow chuckle, shaking her head. "I soon learned something about having friends when you come from a wealthy family. They don't see you. All they see is the money. The mansion, the expensive car. They don't  _care_  about you, only about what you have. If it wasn't for Eleanor, I would have been... well, screwed. She was the one who always identified the leeches. And she told me to be careful, to never let my guard down with them. She was always right about each one of them. The only person who won her approval was Ashley."

"Your best friend, right?"

She nods, smiling softly. "Yes. I do miss her. I can't wait to see her, when Flint takes me to LA."

Trying not to grimace at that name on her tongue, he straightens up. "I'm sure she misses you just as much. And guess what? I was a lonely kid too. All I had was Mary. So I know how you felt."

"And you both turned out just fine, didn't you?"

He shrugs, offering her a half smirk. "Well, we were involved with pirates for years... But then I had to save this young girl I found during a hunt... And that set me on the right path."

It's his hobby. Saying those things, to see her blushing.

As always, it works, and she ducks her head with this little smile on her lips.

He used to think that nothing could be more adorable than the face Davina makes when she's tired as hell but refuses to sleep.

_He was wrong._

"You know..." Abigail begins, meeting his eyes again and smiling shyly. "I miss Ashley, but... When I'm back in LA, I think I'm going to miss you. Like, a lot."

It's his turn to be caught off guard, and only now he realizes that their hands were really close, resting on the surface of the desk. They were reaching out for each other without even realizing it, and in a moment of temporary insanity, he moves his fingers so they're finally touching hers. When she shows no protest, he goes further and locks their fingers together.

Her quiet gasp is barely audible and when the eyes meet, there's this strange, invisible force, urging them closer...

"... also, Eleanor told me that Elsa doesn't like boys." Davina's voice fills the living room when the door opens.

Seeing Mary, Billy immediately lets go of Abigail's hand.

"She probably doesn't. Remember what I told you? Some girls like girls. I think Elsa is like that. And besides, she's too busy for relationships, don't you think?"

Mary closes the door again, then helps Davina out of her light blue coat.

"I don't like boys either. They're yucky. But not you, cousin Billy!" She announces, running to the table and unceremoniously climbing on his lap. "And Charlie, and uncle Jack, they're not yucky either."

"If I'm not yucky, then what am I?" He asks, still a little bummed about the interruption. But this little girl never fails to make him smile.

"You're cool, silly! Like my big brother! You're only yucky when you dip french fries in your ice cream."

Davina crinkles her nose adorably when she says that, and Abigail laughs at the revelation.

"You will probably change your mind about boys one day." The teen says, and Davina looks over at her with a curious look on her face.

"You like boys, Abbie?"

After chuckling at the question, she nods. "Well, yeah, I do."

This wicked smirk comes to the little girl's face, and she raises her chin. "I know... You like cousin Billy."

_What a sneaky little girl..._

Thankfully, she soon starts talking again, changing the subject.

"Elsa likes girls, I know she does. I want her to find a girlfriend. It's not wrong, mama? Victoria told me she traveled with a woman who kissed boys and girls. But she told me it was wrong and against the rules."

"She was mistaken, sweetheart." Mary comes over to the table too, and Abigail frowns in confusion.

"Who's Victoria?"

"She's been developing this habit... using her birth mother's name when referring to that woman. I guess she's making the full transition, letting go of Victoria for good so she can only see me as her mom." Mary explains, taking a seat too as Abigail smiles at Davina.

"My mother's name was Victoria too."

"What happened to her, Abbie?"

"I don't know. She disappeared... when I was just a little baby."

Davina pouts adorably, jumping down from Billy's lap and walking around the table. Before Abigail can even blink, the little girl is attacking her with a miniature bear hug.

"Everyone should have a mama." She explains quietly, and for the first time in forever, Abigail feels her heart clench for the mother she never got to know.

Closing her eyes to hide the tears, she holds Davina close and breathes in the soothing scent of her hair.

Strangely, this little girl comes  _really_  close to filling that void in her heart.

* * *

"I seriously need to go to the mainland."

Eleanor announces, accepting the offered mug of -  _whatever that warm drink is_  - from Madame Shih.

The Asian gives her a stern look, sitting on the ground of her tent, that low table separating them.

"No one leaves the Island for the next eight weeks, rules are rules."

Frustration spreads inside her like fire, and Eleanor shakes her head. "You don't understand. I need... some supplies."

A smile plays on the older woman's lips.

"Your pills are gone, aren't they?"

With a heavy sigh, Eleanor takes a drink of the sweet, warm liquid.

Almost two weeks have passed since the day they arrived at the Island, and when she grabbed her extra box of birth control pills last night, she realized it wasn't sealed.

Her fears were confirmed when she realized that the blister packs were empty. With all the commotion of nearly losing Charles, escaping from Somalia and trying to find the Island, she didn't realize that the damn box contained nothing. She could have sworn it was full, and that they would be fine until they were allowed to visit the mainland.

"I know you have those freaky mind powers, like my mother, put them to good use! Let me know whenever I'm fertile-"

A scoff from Madame Shih cuts her off, and the Asian shakes her head.

"I am  _not_  a fairytale witch, child."

"Can't you tell... stuff about other people? Then why can't-"

"It doesn't work that way, Eleanor."

Wishing the mug in her hands contained something stronger, Eleanor tries to keep her fingers from shaking as she takes a big gulp.

"You have two options here. You can swear off intimacy for the next eight weeks-"

The blonde lets out a dry, humorless laugh.

"Try doing that when you spend every night in the same bed as a sexy, teasing pirate-"

"-Or... You keep track of your period to determine when is your fertile time... and count on luck."

She's unable to repress her eye roll. It feels strange, having to obey rules set be someone else. So she doesn't try to hide her annoyance, and Madame Shih considers her with a stern face.

"You don't want a child? The only safe way to avoid one is to keep your legs closed, simple as that. But if you two desperate teenagers can't help yourselves, then rely on all those risky methods, but don't come whining to me, when you start vomiting everywhere."

With an impatient huff, Eleanor gets to her feet and storms over to the tent flap.

She's about to leave when the Asian speaks her name. Pausing, she looks over her shoulder.

"As I've said...  _Luck_. Pure luck."

What does that even mean?

Scoffing, she shakes her head and walks out of the tent.

Her jaw remains clenched hard as she makes her way through the camp, her blood boiling.

Decidedly, she wasn't born to follow orders or to obey rules.

Charles is not in their tent, and she's grateful for that. The first thing she does when she enters their new "sleeping quarters" is to grab her handbag from the ground.

Sitting on the bunk, she retrieves the two packages and checks their contents, just to make sure...

No pills left.

None at all.

" _Goddamn it_!" She practically growls, violently throwing the packages and her handbag as far as she can.

They land right in front of a pair of bare feet, revealed when the flap is pulled open.

Her anger only grows and she lets her eyes travel his whole body.

He's wearing swimming shorts, droplets of water trailing down his skin, his hair completely wet.

_His muscles look even better when they're wet..._

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she sighs at the questioning look on his face.

"What happened?"

"I have no idea how I forgot... I could swear the other box in my handbag was full and unopened."

He reaches down to pick said handbag up from the dirt ground. "What do you mean?"

" _Jesus_." She lets out a heavy sigh, glaring at him as he walks closer to the bunk. "My birth control pills are all gone,  _that's_  what I mean."

He stops.

Then he stares at her face, standing there like a moron.

"You're sure? All of them?"

She will  _not_  snap.

She will not jump at his throat and strangle him to death, even though that's just what she wants.

Taking a deep breath, she watches as he sits on the bunk, careful to put some distance between them.

"So?"

_Damn it all to hell._

"Are you  _fucking_  kidding me?" She finally snaps, gripping a handful of their sheets to avoid slapping him instead.

"Don't be dramatic. We have permission to go to the mainland in eight weeks, it's-"

"You don't get it. If I stop taking them now, I'm back to square one. And we literally have only three condoms left, the ones you brought from the ship. Do you understand the seriousness of the situation now?"

He stays silent for a while, and she knows that whatever is going to come out of his mouth next, it will only bring her closer to a rage fit.

"You didn't worry about this so much three centuries ago."

She needs to look away from his face in order to grasp at her self-control.

"I will have you know, that I used to keep tabs on my periods, and I  _never_  let you touch me during my fertile time."

"How do you even determine that?"

"I am  _not_  having this conversation with you."

Surreal. This is just so freaking  _surreal._

"How long does it last, can you answer me that, at least?"

"It varies. I remember my fertility window used to last for seven days. In the past. But the birth control pills have messed up my reproductive system, so we won't be able to rely on the calendar method for at least two months. I need to know if my periods will come regularly, so I can keep track... In the meantime, we have no way of knowing whether I'm fertile at a given moment or not."

There are so many worries swimming around in her mind, but it seems he's only concerned about one single thing.

"That doesn't mean we'll have to resort to abstinence, does it?"

Glaring daggers at him, she smirks cruelly.

"Like I said, we have three condoms left. Better make good use of them."

This horrified look comes to his face, nearly making her chuckle.

"Three times? For  _eight_  weeks? You and I both know this is impossible."

"Don't doubt me."

"Mary and I only used the pull out method and nothing ever happened. We did that for  _years_ , and she never got pregnant."

Rubbing her temples, she shakes her head. "It's hard to believe that such a mature, rational woman was once so irresponsible."

Her voice breaks and it's practically imperceptible.

Of course, he notices.

And even though she tries to slap his hands away, he gathers her in his arms, pulling her close.

His wet, cool skin feels amazing against her over heated arms and face, so she soon stops fighting.

"This is the least of our worries. We had no contraceptive methods back in the time, and we were just fine. We'll just have to adapt and find a way to navigate through this, alright? And by the way, I've been meaning to talk to you about something." She pulls away to look him in the eyes, and he brushes her hair behind her ear. "It's your body and your choice in the end, but... Maybe you should stop taking those pills."

Her surprise is palpable, and before she could ask what brought this on, he explains. "What you said back in the Maldives. You told me the pills are bad for you. I talked to Max. And I didn't like what I heard from her. I had no idea those tiny things could affect a woman's body in such a negative way."

She's stunned.

Absolutely stunned.

Eleanor had forgotten she even told him about that, she could have never imagined he would care so much, to the point of investigating...

_She loves him to death._

"Alright. Once all of this is dealt with, I will find a more harmless method."

The relief in his eyes finally makes her smile.

She  _really does_  love him to death.

"And when we're allowed to visit the mainland, we'll get thousands of these, like it or not." She declares, pointing over to the plastic bag that contained the remaining condoms, and he rolls his eyes.

Then something suddenly comes to her mind and her face lights up.

"I think we may have a savior, to help us with this particular emergency."

Before he can say a word, she's leaving the tent.

It will be hard... To swallow her pride and ask for help, to talk about all this with  _that_ person.

But it's the only way, and she will face this challenge with a raised chin.

* * *

It feels strange to drive the Range Rover again after all this time.

To be surrounded by people and buildings after all those weeks in the ocean.

And it's an unwelcome change. He has yet to decide whether he likes the modern world or not, but it certainly has its perks.

After looking for Mason for hours, he finally decided to come here, and of course, his brother's car is parked right in front of the two-store, large white house.

Mason has some explaining to do. The girls were nowhere to be seen when he went to the basement.

He's completely livid.

Luckily, he still has his copy of Sarah's house keys, and when he opens the front door, he immediately sees her, at the mezzanine that overlooked the living room.

She stops walking as if she'd just seen a ghost, but he recognizes the joy shining in her eyes.

"Where is he?"

She probably thinks he's asking about their son, and her face suddenly becomes somber.

"Come to apologize for being a deadbeat dad? Are you trying to walk in Richard Guthrie's footsteps or what?"

How dare her?

How  _dare_  her compare him to that  _monster_  who crushed Eleanor's heart? They are  _nothing_  alike, nothing.

Suddenly overwhelmed by the past, he stalks over to the staircase, eyes fixed on her.

"Do you have any idea how many problems you have caused? You got what you wanted, our peace, disturbed by your petty wish for revenge... it wasn't her fault if she was a thousand times better than you."

Her strong façade falters as he makes his way up the stairs, but she doesn't back down.

When did she become so resolute, so  _brave_? Is this what motherhood does to a woman?

She's still weak, nonetheless, and he will make sure to rub that in her face.

"You deserved it. You deserved to be abandoned,  _twice_ , because you're worthless-" Reaching the top of the stairs, he closes the distance between them. "Without me, you're nothing. You don't have your family this time, to help you get revenge. You're  _nothing_ -" He practically spits the words out, grabbing a hold of her arms. Tears are glinting in her eyes and he's focused on making her break. "... worthless, disposable, and completely  _useless_!" His voice is loud by now, but when he throws that last word at her, she doesn't break like he was expecting her to. Instead, this fire comes to her eyes and she pushes him away before hitting his face, with a strength he had no idea she possessed.

"Don't you dare! Don't you dare to call me useless, I nearly died giving birth to your son,  _our_  son! The one you turned your back on, you  _bastard_!"

He's stunned by this reaction, it's the first time he ever sees her like this, and she looks like a lioness as she keeps his eyes bravely.

"This  _useless_ woman... She's been raising him for months, while you were out there in the ocean looking for a girl who doesn't  _need_ to be rescued!"

Tears are streaming down her face and she's yelling at the top of her lungs, letting all of it out. All the pent-up frustration, pain and despair.

And yet, she still looks strangely imposing.

"My wife-"

"She's  _NOT_  your goddamn wife, you're going mental! Why won't you fight back? For your son! Your son who needs you!"

She's hitting his chest. She has the  _audacity_ -

" _Fight back_! Are you that delusional? Eleanor is  _not yours_! Fight back, right now!"

"You better hold that tongue of yours, or I swear to God I will tear that boy away from you - what were you planning on telling him, when he got older? That I abandoned him, like your father did? Not even your own parents wanted you, Sarah!"

The screamed words attack her right where it hurts, and she hits his chest harder.

"My parents left me, and I want something better for Aiden, don't let our son grow up like this... Fight.  _Back_!"

She wails in agony when he grips her wrists, twisting them while glaring deadly daggers at her. He's so far gone, so lost in his hatred that he barely registers his brother's voice.

" _Woodes_!" It's almost a roar as the older man walks into the living room downstairs, coming from one of the other adjacent rooms to see what the commotion was.

His voice holds a strange warning...

Almost as if he's trying to make his brother understand something.

Understand that they're  _not_  alone.

Suddenly sensing this small presence, he lets go of Sarah's wrists and looks over his shoulder.

There's this little head peeking out of the nursery's door, he's obviously on all fours, chubby arms supporting his weight.

He sees fear in those eyes identical to his own.

Fear and tears, but instead of letting them out, the little boy moves, his hands and knees working together until he's out in the hallway, his whole body visible as he watches the scene and his parents with hesitant interest.

The amount of innocence in those eyes. Those tear-filled eyes. He saw  _everything_.

Slowly turning around so he was facing the baby, Woodes shakes his head. When he speaks, his tone is completely different from the one he had been using only seconds ago.

"He's  _crawling_... When did it start... why didn't you tell me?"

He doesn't get an answer, but Sarah doesn't try to intervene when he slowly walks over to their son.

Both Mason and her watch in silence as he scoops Aiden up in his arms.

For some miracle, the boy doesn't cry but he seems hesitant to trust this strange man, keeping eye contact with an adorable scowl on his face.

Usually, whenever someone holds him, he becomes "chatty" and cheerful, reaching out to touch the person's face, smiling, laughing and shrieking non stop.

With his father, he's not doing any of that. He's just staring at his face in silent suspicion.

"I can't believe I  _missed_  it... I can't believe I'm missing...  _all of it_... " He whispers, mostly to himself, while breaking eye contact and pressing his scarred cheek to his son's forehead.

The boy's discomfort is visible, but he doesn't pull away.

"You don't have to miss it. Come back to us. Please... Come back to your family."

From her voice alone, he knows that Sarah is now back to her normal, submissive self.

_Good._

Closing his eyes, he breathes in that soothing scent, that mix between baby powder and Johnson's shampoo.

Now that he's here, with his son in his arms after all that time...

He had been acting just like Richard. Eleanor would be  _so_  disappointed with him.

Suddenly, his mind shifts and he starts to follow a certain line of thought.

Evidently, that monster who took his wife tends to act with violence. He did warn her family that if someone came after them, he would kill her.

Maybe... Just  _maybe_... It was actually a blessing in disguise, the fact that they were unable to find and intercept the Ranger.

What if they had actually succeeded... What would have kept that sadistic savage from killing his wife right before his eyes?

Now he sees it so  _clearly_.

It was a mistake to search for them in person. He needs to do this quietly. In a much more discreet manner... He needs a safer strategy.

Maybe he can do both things... Be a father... Be here for his son, it's what Eleanor would want him to do.

But he won't give up on her.  _Never_  abandon her.

He doesn't care if he has to spend absurd amounts of money, even if it takes time he will have spies on _Every. Single. Port._

Every single port of this fucking world.

When Vane has his guard down, that's when he will act and bring  _her_  home.

Mind made up, he looks over at his brother.

"Low is spending the night at the Demeter. I don't care how, but set him up. I want him in prison. So he won't cause any trouble for us."

With a barely perceptible smile, Mason leaves the house.

Closing his eyes again, Woodes sighs heavily. This has to work. It  _has_  to.

As his son shifts uncomfortably in his arms, starting to whine in complaint, he kisses the top of his head.

"Everything will be okay. Your father's here now, child."

* * *

"Sorry, cunt."

The words crush her hopes, and at the same time she wants to slap that damn half smirk out of the redhead's face.

Anne is clearly having  _way_  too much fun with this situation.

"I don't have any extra pills because I don't take them anymore." She continues, going back to sharpening the spear in her hands. "Jack made me sought a doctor about a week before we left the Bahamas, my body wasn't reacting too well to the pills, so we decided to change methods."

Frowning, she walks closer to the little brute sitting on a crate in the middle of the tent.

"What are you using now?"

She hopes they have a box filled with condoms; maybe she could borrow some...

"That freaky thing that goes inside you, to avoid-"

"You mean an IUD." She cuts Anne off, frustrated to have her hopes crushed again.

"That's the name, yeah."

Suddenly angry with herself, Eleanor paces around in the tent, shaking her head.

"I  _knew_  it. I knew I should have gotten one of these too, I'm so fucking  _stupid_."

"Finally something we agree on."

Glaring daggers at the redhead, she buries her face in her hands.

Moments drag by, the only sounds are the stone against the spear, and once Anne is satisfied she blows at the tip of it. Then she meets her eyes, and Eleanor doesn't know if she likes the look on her face.

"But guess what, you're in luck. I happen to know about a very good contraceptive method... The bean one, 100% effective. Ever heard of it?"

Utterly confused, Eleanor frowns, trying her best to find out how this could possibly work.

She soon gives up.

" _Bean_?"

Anne nods, setting the spear aside and reaching for her cigarette pack.

"You put a bean between your knees, then you keep them pressed together all the time so the bean doesn't fall. Long as your legs stay closed, there will be no kid calling me aunt Anne anytime soon."

She should have known.

She should have fucking known.

Scoffing, she shakes her head in disapproval.

"You get your sense of humor from your mentor, I see."

Anne shrugs with a wicked smile before focusing on lighting the cigarette.

Sighing heavily, Eleanor walks over to the tent flap.

"Well, thanks for nothing."

"Anytime, cunt." That raspy voice says and for some reason, a smile tugs at her lips as she leaves the tent.

But once that brief, unexpected second of amusement passes, she bites her lower lip nervously, looking around the camp.

_Just what the **hell**  is she going to do?_

* * *

_**Los Angeles** _

_**Six years ago** _

_"Oh sweetheart. Peter has left you here all alone again, right?"_

_She's immediately relieved to hear that familiar, gentle voice._

_It's scary, when her father has to bring her to this place. He disappears, leaving her alone, sitting here. All of those adults in suits, they look at her strange when they walk by her chair. Not to mention all the bad guys in handcuffs._

_But this angel always finds her sooner or later._

_Her tears finally go away as the woman sits on the chair just beside hers, offering her a warm smile._

_"A courthouse is no place for a little girl, when is he going to understand that?" She asks herself, shaking her head before reaching to stroke the child's hair affectionately. "Have you eaten, at least?"_

_"Not really..." Abigail says, just as her stomach growls._

_Even though the woman smiles, there's a sad look in her eyes. She opens her purse and takes out a wrapped, natural sandwich, then offers it to the child._

_Even though Abigail never liked lettuce, she eats it all, only now realizing how hungry she was._

_"I have a couple of hours between now and my next audience. Want me to keep you company, Abbie?"_

_She nods eagerly, finishing the sandwich and finally smiling._

_For the next hour and a half, they play I spy, and Abigail makes sure to keep her voice quiet, even when she laughed, just as the adult had instructed._

_She's actually bummed when her father's voice reaches her ears._

_"Abigail. Come on, time to go home, child."_

_He's standing by the large double doors, a sour look on his face. He never likes to see her with this woman, but what can she do?_

_Giving her a brief hug, Abigail jumps down from her seat and rushes to her father._

_Just before they leave the courthouse, she looks over her shoulder and smiles brightly at her guardian angel._

_"Thank you, miss Barlow!"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People have asked.
> 
> People have requested.
> 
> And after almost 100 chapters of this story, I finally found a way to bring the Barlow woman into this, so let's throw her a big welcoming party lol


	40. Of Snakes and Lawyers

It's always the same way. Her smile makes the corners of his lips twitch up involuntarily. It's as if she brings light to his life, to his soul.

And as he watches this mini version of his sister, playing a cardboard game with her new nanny, it's suddenly as if everything's just perfect in the whole wide world.

Melissa's sweet laughter when Caroline lets her win once again tears a chuckle from his lips.

Elijah can't believe how well life has been going lately. His little princess is adapting just fine to their new home, doing well in school, making friends and having fun.

And well, if she's happy, he's happy too.

When Melissa takes off running to her room to search for her crayons, Caroline gets up from her chair.

"It's amazing; she's so full of energy right now, but I know she will be asleep within the next couple of hours. Like always."

He has to laugh, pushing off the wall as she takes a few steps closer.

"It's all an act. In truth, she's already exhausted, but she's trying to fool us. Over time, you learn how to read her."

"Sneaky little girl."

"Indeed." Elijah laughs again, taking a couple of seconds to study her face. "Sometimes I feel as if Eleanor is back, and I'm looking at her."

For a brief moment, this seems to alert Caroline. But then her smile widens, this warm look coming to her face. "We're cousins, she and I. Everyone says we look alike, it was always this way."

"I see."

She averts her eyes then, just as Olivia emerges from her room. "You ready?"

Elijah nods at his twin, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder in a loving gesture once she's close enough.

"You know the drill. No snacks. Make her eat dinner and take a shower before bed. And she's not allowed to have any sweets." Olivia reminds the new nanny about the rules, and Elijah mouths the words " _yes, she is_ " to her while his sister isn't looking. Caroline tries hard not to smirk at this as the little girl comes back with her box of crayons.

"Be good to Carol, love. Alright?" Olivia runs one hand through her daughter's straight, shoulder-length hair, and she nods enthusiastically.

"I'm always good, mommy!"

"Yes, that's right."

Elijah watches as his twin bends down to drop a kiss to the top of the child's head, his heart filling with warmth.

He knows how hard it is for his sister, to be away from Melissa. But she wanted to work, and this is the price she has to pay.

Olivia sighs once they're in the car, and he's driving to the tavern.

"When she comes back, we really need to find a good way to thank her."

Elijah nods at her words, agreeing completely.

A few weeks ago, Eleanor asked about his family and he said his sister had yet to find a job. His boss didn't even hesitate before offering Olivia a place in the tavern, and she's now working as a waitress. Back in LA, he was always hearing that this woman was ice cold. People said she didn't care about anyone but herself. For a while, he believed those rumors. She did look like a selfish, spoiled girl in the pictures anyway.

But when he saw her in person, trapped in that room... When his former boss dared to lay hands on her and she begged for his help, her eyes filled with fear... He realized there was a lot more to that woman.

That rotten society didn't know her at all. They  _never_  did.

And he's glad that she managed to break free from that world.

She has a good heart. She may be stern, strict and serious most of the time, but deep down her soul is beautiful... Too beautiful for that disgusting nest of snakes.

Taking a look at the full moon high on the sky, Elijah lets out a heavy sigh.

He wonders where his boss is, and if she's coming back home any time soon.

Whatever the case, he just hopes she's safe and sound.

* * *

The old axe connects with the wood again, and Charles clenches his jaw at the annoying twinge of pain in his abdomen.

He's been pushing his limits lately, wanting to make sure he's back to his normal shape, to reassure himself  _and_  his ego.

It drives a certain someone insane. Last night, she spent a long time yelling at him to come down from the trees, but he ignored her. He was hidden from her view, and each time she demanded that he climbed back down, each time she yelled his name, he could hear the irritation in her voice giving place to concern and anxiety.

It was adorable.

Eventually, he obeyed her insistent orders, and she didn't let him touch her all night as punishment for making her worry so much.

But it was alright, because he was able to rub it in her face. To show her that he's healed, recovered and still the same man he was before the whole Teach incident.

Or sort of. Now that he's here, away from the camp, cutting wood to replenish their stock, it seems his body is starting to protest. All the efforts he's been making are probably taking their toll on him. Maybe he's not quite as healed as he had previously thought just yet.

But the brief pain whenever he brings his axe down against the wood is nothing he can't handle, so it's okay for now.

He just needs to make sure Eleanor doesn't find out about it.

Twigs break, alerting Charles of someone's presence, and he turns around abruptly.

Even though it's not a threat, he's still unable to relax.

Those hauntingly familiar blue eyes stay fixed on him as the Russian comes closer, an axe in his hands too.

"Cutting all that wood and pulling the cart all the way back to the camp is not a light task. And I have heard from your crew and Madame Shih that you were shot in the stomach recently."

At first, Charles just frowns in confusion. Why is this stranger interested in helping him?

"Did Shih send you? Or was it Eleanor?"

Vasyl shakes his head, and Charles realizes that the older man doesn't really know why he came here either.

"I had nothing to do back at the camp." He explains, but neither of them believes this excuse.

There's this heavy silence between them while they work, but it doesn't last for too long.

"How are you adapting to life in the Island, son?"

He stiffens. Then he meets Vasyl's eyes, his face somber with warning as his fist clenches. When he speaks, his voice sounds deadly and rougher than usual.

"Don't you  _ever_  call me that again."

Although he knows it's just a way some men refer to younger ones, for one moment he actually felt very tempted to strangle the Russian to death.

_As if he was actually his father._

He supposes it's perfectly normal. He already hates this man, for some reason, and it's the first time someone ever calls him son directly.

He  _doesn't_  like it.

Thankfully, the older man chooses to just let this go.

His presence is highly disturbing, Charles finds. For some reason, just the sound of his breathing is enough to make his jaw clench, his fingers tightening around the handle of the axe.

How he wishes he could aim it at the Russian's head instead of the wood.

Charles has tried many times, to comprehend where all this hatred comes from. It doesn't make any sense. Of course, he's not one to like people, but all this anger...

It's  _not_  normal, even to his standards.

Time seems to drag by as they work in silence, and just as Charles glances back at the cart to see how much wood they still needed, Vasyl surges towards him.

For a split second, he's ready for a fight, his brain already slipping into combat mode automatically.

But then Vasyl just pushes him out of the way. It all happens so fast, that he barely has time to lay eyes on the creature, before the Russian's axe cuts its head off.

Staring at the now lifeless form of the snake, Charles scowls. It had been obviously just about to bite him, he saw its fangs just before Vasyl killed it.

It looks exotic, white, with black stripes.

"Its a blue krait." The older man says and he faces him, still somewhat confused. "Considered one of the deadliest snakes in the world, one bite... And you would be gone soon, even if antivenin was administered, probably. And considering the fact that we don't have such a thing back at the camp, I'd say your chances would have been even slimmer."

Charles looks from him to the snake and its severed head again.

If this shady stranger thinks he'll get a "thank you", he's sorely mistaken. Even if he just saved his life.

When they're finally pulling the cart back to the camp, the jungle surrounding them from all sides, Vasyl tries yet another approach.

"This place is filled with dangerous, venomous critters, s... Charles." He almost said that word again, as if he can't help himself. What the fuck is his problem? "I have drawings of them, maybe it could be useful. So you can keep your lady safe when she finally lets you take her to explore the jungle."

_Damn it, his weak spot._

The last thing he wants is to accept any sort of help from this mysterious man he has already come to loathe. But when it comes to keeping  _her_  safe...

A brief nod of his head is all he manages, and luckily, Vasyl notices.

"Very well, then. I'll find the drawings and take them to your tent after dusk. I wrote it down too, everything about each critter, their names and all the info you need. You should probably share it with your crew too."

Clenching his jaw hard, Charles stays silent and focused on avoiding his eyes.

How he wishes they could simply teleport back to Madame Shih's camp already.

* * *

"I didn't let him touch me last night, I said it was punishment for his stupid behavior, but in truth... it wasn't just that. I'm afraid. We have no way to avoid a pregnancy, I have no idea when I'll be fertile." Eleanor says, sighing heavily while Jack considers her with a raised eyebrow. "Please tell me you will be more helpful than Anne. She completely humiliated me."

"It's her own way of demonstrating friendship. You should be honored."

With a frustrated groan, she looks around Jack and Anne's tent.

It's considerably larger than hers and Charles', they have a bunk  _and_  a hammock, supported by two tree trunks and set in the middle of the tent. It's where she's sitting right now, using her left foot to gently rock back and forth and watching as Jack works on tidying the mess left by a certain redhead.

"Darling, my advice is that you wait for a while. It won't kill you, and as for him, well... He will probably be moodier than usual, but he will respect your decision." He shakes his head at a mud-covered shirt he picks up from the ground, then throws it to the growing pile of dirty clothes. "Wait until your cycle comes, then wait another month to see if it's back to normal, so you can determine your fertility window-"

His speech is interrupted when Anne comes in through the tent flap, munching on a mango and rolling her eyes at his words and the blonde in their hammock.

"This again? How long you plan to keep on whining about the situation?" She walks away to sit on the bunk, setting her fruit aside for a moment and kicking off her shoes before meeting Eleanor's eyes.

"Want one of my knives? Cut his balls off, problem solved. Forever."

She rolls her eyes, repressing a grimace, and Jack smirks at the redhead. "Now, don't pretend to be all ice cold like that. We all know how much you want to become Auntie Annie one day."

Glaring daggers at him, she takes a big bite from the mango.

"If you call me that one more time, you won't be alive to become uncle Jack."

The threat only makes him grin and go back to his previous task.

After staring at Anne's face for a couple of seconds longer, Eleanor sighs and decides to just try and ignore her presence, focusing her attention back on Jack.

"I don't know if we'll be able to wait so long. I need to be realistic. That... ancient method, how reliable is it?"

"Withdrawal?" He shrugs, seeming to be racking his brain for what to say. "Well, it depends."

"On what?"

"I'm sure you're aware about the existence of pre-ejaculate fluid, are you not?"

Who would've ever thought she would be having such a conversation with this man one day.

"Of course. I've heard mixed comments about it, is it true that it can cause a pregnancy?"

"From what I have read over the years, it shouldn't contain any sperm. However..."

There's a snort from Anne, and they look over at her.

"You two are fucking disgusting."

Raising his eyebrows, Jack scoffs. "You and Charles are the biggest fans of gory movies, and  _we_  are the disgusting ones? For having a much needed conversation? If you're that uncomfortable, feel free to give us a moment alone."

She makes no move to get up from the bunk, scowling at the blue canvas, and Jack shrugs before focusing back on Eleanor.

"As I was saying. It  _is_  unlikely, but many women  _have_  become pregnant from that fluid, and thus we cannot rule out the possibility."

There's a mumbled " _bullshit_ " from the redhead. They ignore her completely.

"From what I have heard  _and_  read on the subject, what usually happens is that when the pre-ejaculate leaves the body, it may pick up remaining sperm from a previous, recent ejaculation. So if you want to rely on this method, you should probably be fine... As long as there's no round two. Which, judging from what we used to hear back at the ship and the hideout, is a common occurrence."

There's a half smirk on his lips when he finishes, and she narrows her eyes at him.

He's actually having fun with this.

"And of course, I know you two often get lost in the... heat of the moment, so tell me: Is his self control good enough? If he fails to withdraw at the right time, well, you might receive a little gift in nine months." She just stares at him, actually starting to feel her cheeks burn now, and he raises an eyebrow with that snarky air of his. "Please tell me I don't need to elaborate further."

There's a quiet chuckle from Anne, and Eleanor sighs heavily while getting to her feet.

"Thank you for your time. At least you were much more helpful than a _certain someone_." She glances at the redhead before making her way to the tent flap.

"So, what are your plans?" Jack asks, holding the flap open for her as she shrugs.

"I don't know. But I will discuss the subject with him soon."

A soft grimace comes to her face at the thought, she already knows that it will require a lot of effort to make Charles take this conversation seriously. And from the look Jack gives her, he's probably thinking the exact same thing.

"Well, good luck, love. You  _will_  need it."

Forcing a smile, she lets him pat her shoulder before leaving the tent. As the flap falls closed behind her, she catches sight of two figures emerging from the jungle.

He's shirtless. This sight is always enough to make her heart skip a beat.

He has the Russian with him, and as they pull the cart over to the small shed where firewood is stored, near the beach, Charles meets her eyes across the camp.

Sighing briefly, she begins to make her way over to them.

Only to stop in her tracks when the two man face each other.

A frown comes to her face.

Their profiles... So many similarities.

Their noses. Their jawlines. Their unique cheekbones.

_The color of their eyes._

When they look over to the spot where she's frozen, it feels as if she's staring at Charles and an older version of him.

Finally coming back to the here and now, Eleanor shakes her head to clear her thoughts.

Her hand reaches out for him automatically when she gets close enough, this stupid smile playing on her lips as she touches his arm.

It reminds her of a similar gesture from the past. Thankfully, this time it isn't towards her ex-husband, and there's no suffocating dress killing her slowly.

"I hope you know I will make you rest for the remainder of the day now. You've been pushing yourself too hard."

He rolls his eyes, pulling her in closer anyway and pecking her lips briefly.

"Better listen to her. A gunshot wound is not a joke, trust me."

They look at Vasyl as he says those words, and the Russian quickly realizes he's intruding in their moment.

Saying a quick excuse, he leaves them.

And once again, Eleanor notices those strange similarities.

Frowning, she meets Charles' eyes, and a second later he looks over at the largest tent, right at the back of the camp.

Following his stare, Eleanor feels a shiver go down her spine as they see Madame Shih. Her eyes are moving from them to Vasyl, and she smirks while turning around to go back inside her tent.

It was creepy as fuck. The look on her face. Her smile. It looked as if she knows something they don't.

Something very, very important.

* * *

**Los Angeles**

"It's her car!"

The teenage girl gets up from the bench, running excitedly in the direction of a silver sedan.

Sighing briefly, Flint doesn't even bother looking at the lawyer's face. Instead, he keeps staring down at his phone screen, at a message he had sent two weeks ago.

It's still unanswered.

He supposes it's normal. Eleanor did say they were going to an island God knows where, she warned him and her family in the Bahamas, that she would probably have no signal for a long while.

Still, going so long without hearing from her...

He worries about her far more than he would have liked.

He  _cares_ far more than he would have liked. But it could be worse.

Hell, if he's nervous about the situation, poor Scott must be out of his mind with worry.

It's not as if they think she can't take care of herself. They're just uneasy due to the lack of news from the Ranger.

_It's only natural, isn't it?_

Approaching footsteps and the sound of Abigail's voice fill his ears suddenly and he resists the urge of rolling his eyes. For some reason, he's not happy to be back in LA, but he knows it's not the girl's fault.

When the newly arrived lawyer speaks, he knows her words are directed at him. And yet, he's frozen, unable to look up at her.

"This was a long time coming. I'm glad she's finally breaking free from that man's influence."

_Her voice._

When he's finally able to move, to look at her face, it feels as if his whole world has stopped turning.

She's not looking at him. She's searching her bag for something, and his jaw drops briefly in disbelief.

He has to blink hard to make sure this isn't some sort of strange dream, or a hallucination.

"I've never seen you before, however... What's your connection with Abigail? When I heard about this emancipation, I was expecting Guthrie's daughter-"

She falls silent as soon as their eyes meet. This soft frown comes to her face, but he's sure she doesn't know who he is. Despite the huge wave of déjà vu that's more than likely flooding her world right now.

He's aware of Abigail looking at them, probably finding their little moment very strange. Clearing his throat, he gets to his feet and extends his hand. "I am representing Miss Guthrie, she was unable to come. But she has been in touch with Abigail."

Her eyes drop to his hand for a split second. She seems suspicious of him, to say the least.

"And what is your relationship with that young woman?"

The words catch in his throat before he's able to say them out loud.

"She's just like a daughter to me."

Somehow, she seems to know he's being sincere. And his answer has obviously reassured her a lot, as she loses the hostile expression.

She was probably just worried he could be the kind of man that takes advantage of younger girls, like Eleanor and of course, Abigail.

Her smile when they finally shake hands makes the corners of his lips twitch up too.

Minutes later, when they're seated at a picnic table on the park, all her attention is focused on Abigail. They're both sitting across from him, and Flint can't say a word. He's too amazed.

Watching her still feels like a dream. She's bringing it all to the surface, all the pain and the frustration.

He didn't arrive in time to save Thomas. He failed him. He let him die.

What would she think, if she recovered her memories, if she found out about that?

He hopes she never remembers.

Not because of him and his mistakes. But for her own sake.

He had never seen Miranda looking so young.

So fresh and powerful.

_So beautiful._

Abigail told him the lawyer was 32 years old. But she looks even younger.

"I went to speak with your father. He agreed to give up his rights just like that..."

He barely registers what she's saying to Abigail. Seeing the two of them sitting there, in modern clothes, after having spent years building a friendship, it makes his heart feel warm.

Her hair is completely loose. Wavy and glossy, cascading down her back. Seeing her in a blazer still feels weird in a pleasant way.

Instead of a scar-like, red portion of skin, there's a beauty mark on her forehead that wasn't there in her past life. Not too large, just enough to make her face look more charming.

He's glad she wasn't left with an angry red birthmark, like Charles and Eleanor.

Every gesture, every smile and every nod of her head when Abigail asks something... He feels the left corner of his lips frozen in a half smile, but he doesn't care.

Only coming back to the here and now when Abigail gets to her feet, he sighs briefly.

"I'll go back to my room in the hotel, so I can shower. I'm going out with Ashley tonight." She says with a big grin, and he scowls.

"Where?" Both him and Miranda ask at the same time, sounding like inquiring parents, and they share a brief look.

"To the movies, nothing too extreme. Don't worry."

As she walks away, Miranda narrows her eyes.

"I'm keeping tabs on you, young lady!"

The teen's laughter fills their ears, and they watch her until she's safely inside the building on the other side of the street.

"They grow up fast." The lawyer says with a chuckle, putting all those papers back inside her bag, then meeting his eyes.

He knows her, and he knows she has a request to make.

"Please, even after this is solved... Take care of her? She's so innocent, and I don't want this crazy world to hurt her. I already know she won't stay in LA where I can look after her." Getting to her feet, she watches as he does the same. "If she wants to spread her wings and fly, don't hold her back... Just check up on her from times to times, if it's possible."

"You have my word."

She smiles gratefully, and before he realizes it, he's walking at her side.

When they reach the car, she frowns at him, still smiling.

"Do I know you?"

A thousand scenes play in his mind, and he chuckles weakly.

"Unlikely."

She considers him for a moment, tilting her head to the side.

"Maybe we could dine together? So I can talk to you about this whole process."

He just knew she was going to say it.

"I'd like that."

Her smile widens and she gets in the driver's seat.

When she rolls down the window and waves her hand goodbye before driving away, he sees a brief flash of her staring at him through a carriage window, instead of a car.

He scoffs at how surreal this whole experience still feels. Life has taken so much from him, but look at the unexpected gifts he receives sometimes.

His soul feels lighter now.

Miranda looked so different, and yet she was still the same person he once knew, all at the same time.

She's youthful. Joyful. Carefree, full of  _life_. With a successful career, a good life.

_She's okay._

And this gives him such  _peace_.

Trying hard to get rid of the annoying smile on his lips, he heads to his rented car, parked near the hotel.

This unexpected encounter has made him see things differently. Instead of feeling sour and moody to be in LA, he should make the most of it.

And now that he's here again, there is someone else he really needs to check up on.

He needs to make sure the money he left was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, Gates' fans, he's coming back next chapter ;)
> 
> 100 chapters, counting both SAIL and the sequel. I can't believe it. My baby is growing so fast. And I'm still nowhere near done with this story lol


	41. Warrior

The skin of his back is slick with sweat under her fingertips, and she's doing her best to keep silent.

Her efforts are completely useless.

He was relentless tonight, she's completely drained. After so much pleasure, she could swear they're in heaven.

He's not exactly being quiet either, and she's sure that anyone who walks too close to the tent is able to hear them.

But right now, she doesn't give a  _fuck_.

Her nails dig into his skin as he starts to pick up the pace, his thrusts becoming erratic. She knows he's close.

Scratching his skin until her hands reach his hips, she stares deep in his eyes, mouth parted as he pants, the purest devotion shining in her eyes.

_Fuck, she loves him-_

His groan makes her gasp, and then he's reaching for her hand.

Soon coming back to full awareness, she understands what he wants, her fingers wrapping around his cock as soon as he pulls out.

Only a few pumps, and he's burying his face in the crook of her neck, a deliciously sinful sound leaving his lips.

When she feels him pulsing against her palm, it's too much. She's not sure if she just climaxed for the 5th time, but what a pleasant feeling that was.

Her free hand goes to her stomach and she can't help but smile as her fingers make contact with liquid warmth. This is actually strangely nice, but she still wishes they didn't have to do it like this.

She misses him... Feeling  _all_  of him.

_Ever since that pregnancy scare..._

That was the last time he came inside her, and she would have never guessed just how much she  _loved_  that feeling.

It must be frustrating as hell for him too.

But it's only temporary.

His breathing starts to slow down again, and she strokes his cheek while he presses his forehead to hers.

When he recovers, Charles moves, leaving the makeshift bunk to retrieve a rag from the dirt ground. Smiling softly in satisfaction, she watches as he cleans her stomach, and the gesture fills her heart with warmth.

_Yes, she loves him._

"Round two?" He asks a few minutes later, their bodies pressed close together, and she chuckles against the skin of his neck.

"Yeah, about that..." Propping herself up on an elbow, Eleanor smirks at him. "...We can't."

A frown comes to his face.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

How is she going to explain this to him?

Tracing the muscles of his abdomen, she sighs softly.

"You see... This method we're relying on, it tends to fail when there's a round two."

"Who told you that?"

She stays silent but he soon catches up, shaking his head.

"Jack is so dead. He's so dead."

Trying not to chuckle, she forces herself to look stern. "He was helping me. What he said, it makes sense and this is why I'm setting a new rule. No round two, or three, or whatever... For as long as we have to use this ancient method."

"This shit doesn't make any sense."

She has to kiss him in order to hold back her laughter.

"It does. Trust me." Eleanor says as they pull away, then she's resting her head on his chest.

He grumbles for a few moments longer, and she smiles to herself.

The waves break outside, and as the moon rises in the sky, the air begins to become chilly. This causes Eleanor to let go him, getting to her feet to retrieve their blanket from a corner.

"So, the Russian... I thought you hated him?"

Charles scowls, watching her as she adjusted the blanket. It covers him up to his waist, but he sits up on the bunk.

"I do."

"But you were cutting wood together. He had already finished his chores, what made him want to help you?"

He glances at his bag of clothes, eyeing the papers resting on top of it. The papers Vasyl had brought earlier, just as he promised.

"I have no idea. He's strange."

"That he is..." For a moment, it seems as if she will say something. But then she apparently decides against it.

"You will be leading an army together soon, maybe you should work on this hatred."

He just clenches his jaw, averting his eyes and shaking his head. With a sigh, she straddles his lap.

"Look at me."

He doesn't obey at first, but she forces him to do so. "Where does it even come from? What makes you hate him so much, what did he do? Is it because he called me sweetheart?"

He scoffs. His voice is gruff when he speaks.

"Has  _nothing_  to do with you."

Frowning, Eleanor leans in closer. "Then what is the source of this hatred?"

He stays silent. Trying to find an answer to that question.

For some reason, Davina's face comes to his mind.

"I don't know. All I know is that something's off 'bout that Russian."

"You think he's not to be trusted? Maybe he could be in league with the Spaniards?"

She keeps her voice as quiet as possible, and he shakes his head.

"He's clearly one of Shih's favorites. She trusts him, and a woman as smart as her... If he was a traitor, I think she would have figured it out by now."

They just stare in each other's eyes for a while, crickets chirping outside. Knowing this conversation wasn't going anywhere, Eleanor closes the distance between them.

It's calm, slow and deep. His arms close around her waist and she strokes the nape of his neck, melting into the kiss.

When they pull away, he caresses her chin.

"You're such a good kisser."

The words catch her off guard, and she can't help but smile brightly.

"Well... I had the best teacher ever. In my previous life." She shifts slightly, moving both hands to his shoulders and chuckling quietly. "His teachings have lasted throughout three centuries, it seems."

His wicked smirk lights up her world.

"I'm sure you were his favorite student."

Narrowing her eyes, she slaps his right shoulder.

"Asshole."

He brushes her hair behind her ear. She notices his other hand is tracing her scars.

His eyes drop to her thigh and there's nothing but silence for a while.

"They tell you your pain is pointless. They tell you you're being a drama queen. They say you're just looking for attention, even though you hide these from the world." She can't take her eyes off of his face as he speaks. There's a pleasant warmth flooding her heart and her soul. "According to them, depression doesn't exist. It's invisible, after all. If you're not bleeding, then there is no real pain, they say. And when you do show the blood to the world... They judge. They say you're crazy."

He pauses, pressing a quick, soft kiss to her lips and staring in her eyes as he pulls away.

"I don't know about you... But to me, they are the crazy ones."

The corners of her lips twitch up and she nods in agreement.

But he's not done yet.

"Hopefully the day will come. When the people from your community won't have to hide. To think they're different. People like you, Flint and Anne... You won't need to be afraid anymore. Also, the day will come, when people with scars on their skin will be seen as the  _warriors_  they really are."

The burning sensation in her eyes has nothing to do with tears.

That's what she tries to tell herself, anyway.

"Where did this come from?"

He just shrugs, and she strokes his left cheek in an almost revering way.

"I love you."

He doesn't say it back. But it doesn't matter.

Because his eyes say it for him, and that's more than enough.

* * *

**Los Angeles**

Staring at the woman across the table, Flint allows himself to smile.

Abigail must have given her his number, because she called in the morning to let him know she would have some free time today, and they decided to have lunch together.

She has told him all about Peter, how he didn't oppose to the idea of giving up his parental rights. Although this helped their case immensely, she said she felt bad.

Peter's actions pretty much showed that he doesn't give a damn about his daughter, and it was probably a relief to get rid of her.

"I don't know what makes a parent abandon their child like this... It must be such a gift. To have kids of your own... And so many people throw that blessing in the trash."

Her eyes glint briefly, and he frowns a little.

"I assume you want to have children one day?"

"More than anything... But I'm afraid I can't."

She tries to mask her pain with a smile, but Flint sees right through her.

"What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said. I can't have children. Unless I adopt... No little ones for me. It must be punishment for something I did in another life, who knows."

He stares at her while she takes a sip of her orange juice.

"Another life? You believe in such a thing?"

"My parents were born in South America. Spiritism is a very common religion over there, and I liked it a lot... So yes, I do believe we don't live only once."

He has to smile.

"I suppose you're right."

There's a strange silence for a while, and he tries to find something to say.

"You lived in South America, then?"

"No. When I was born, my parents had already moved here. But we used to go there all the time to visit some relatives. When I was three, my father decided to buy one of the McGraw vineyards. Have you heard about the tragedy? The previous owners died in a car accident, and their son didn't want to keep all those lands. Poor boy, I suppose it was difficult for him, so he sold everything. He only kept the cruise ship... The Dahlia, if I'm not mistaken."

"The Walrus." She frowns in confusion, and he's quick to explain. "I renamed her. She's the Walrus now."

Miranda just gapes at him for a moment.

"You're the boy, then? God... It's truly a small world, isn't it?"

They're both smiling, and by now he has already given up on trying to remain serious and impassive.

"Indeed... Indeed."

* * *

**Bavarian Alps**

Normally, whenever he's playing with Davina, he forgets about the rest of the world.

He forgets about his problems, about the pain, and anything that may be troubling him.

But for the first time ever, not even this sweet little angel is able to get his mind off... Something.

Someone.

Sighing heavily, he finds an excuse for his distant behavior and tells Davina he has a killer headache. She pouts, and he ruffles her hair before making his way up the staircase.

Walking the long, dark corridors, Billy swallows hard.

He misses her so fucking much. He had no idea it would hurt like this. What the hell is wrong with him? Why is her absence making his heart clench?

Is she okay? Is she safe?

He's not sleeping well, ever since Flint took her away.

Stepping inside his room and closing the door behind him, Billy pulls his shirt over his head before making his way to the bed.

He stares at his phone for a while, mentally telling himself about how freaking stupid he is.

_Fuck it._

Reaching out, he grabs the device from the bedside table.

_"Hope you're okay over there. Things are kind of boring without you. Be safe and good luck."_

He re-reads the message at least twenty times before sending it.

He's an idiot, but at least he's an idiot who's feeling a little bit better now.

He wonders if Abigail will answer the text. But she's probably not even thinking about him... She will probably just ignore his message. And he doesn't blame her for that.

Little does he know, she's smiling wide across the sea, reading the text over and over again.

* * *

**Shih Island**

Jack smiles at her when she sits on the sand by his side, the palm tree sheltering them from the sun.

"So? Did it work, last night?"

Frowning briefly, Eleanor smiles and accepts the apple he offers her.

"How did you know?"

For a second it looks like he's about to laugh at her.

"Whole camp knows, honestly. Those tents aren't exactly sound proof, you see."

Her cheeks burn a little and she averts her eyes, taking a bite at the apple.

So her suspicions were right. They were too loud last night. This must be the reason why most of the women are looking at her and smirking today. They're probably talking among themselves, thinking she's a lucky one.

And well, they're  _not_  wrong.

"I think we'll be fine. I was over reacting."

He nods at her words, agreeing completely. She really was over reacting.

Silence reigns and they watch Charles for a while. He's spearing fish in the ocean, and it doesn't take too long for Vasyl to appear. The Russian helps him, showing him where to go, and they can see he's uncomfortable as hell.

"Do you think about it?" Jack suddenly asks, and she frowns in confusion.

"What?"

"Did you ever consider the idea? Of giving me and Anne a little niece or nephew?" He bumps his shoulder against hers, smirking playfully, and she shakes her head with a sigh.

"He doesn't want to have a child with me."

Jack scowls, glancing at Charles before meeting her eyes again.

"I'm sure that's not true."

"Just look at how he reacted to that scare..."

His scoff interrupts her words, and she frowns at him.

"You don't see it, do you?"

Tilting her head to the side, she waits for him to say more.

"Eleanor, he's terrified. That's all. It's not that he doesn't want to be a dad. He's just scared of letting his kid down. Like his own father did."

Just as he finishes the phrase there's a cheer from Vasyl and they look over at the sea. Charles is actually smiling, even if it's barely perceptible. They see he just caught a big fish, and Vasyl claps his shoulder like a proud mentor.

This causes him to become completely serious again, and he avoids the older man's hand as if it had burned him.

"What's with that man? Why does he seem so intent on befriending him? He doesn't look like the friendly type." Eleanor says in a quiet voice, and Jack scowls at the scene before they look at each other.

"I have no idea. But you're right, it  _is_  very strange. And I can tell Charles is growing more and more uncomfortable. Someone should warn this Russian. If Charles loses his patience... Well, you know. We would be in trouble with Shih, if he killed him. Think you can keep him in line?"

A half smirk comes to her face.

"Yeah. I always do."

She winks at him, then gets to her feet.

"I'll go tend to my own chores. See you later."

As she's walking away, Jack says her name. Pausing, she looks at him over her shoulder.

"You didn't answer my question."

_Sneaky bastard._

For a moment, she just stands frozen there.

And then she's smiling at him, shrugging briefly and walking away. It makes him smile too. Because he knows what she meant by that.

Looking at the ocean, Jack chuckles to himself.

"Whenever you come, kid... I will be the  _best_  uncle in the world. It's a promise."

* * *

**Los Angeles**

**3 days later**

He's been staring at the house for three hours.

_Three hours._

When was the last time he felt so scared? This is ridiculous.

Gathering all his courage, Flint gets out of the car and walks to the other side of the street.

His heart is beating wildly, and he hesitates for one final moment before knocking on the door.

It feels like an eternity, but when he hears someone unlocking the door, when it opens and he sees  _that_  face, he wonders if it's too late to give up on this stupid idea.

_The answer is yes._

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he somehow finds his voice.

"You don't know who I am, but-"

"Wrong."

He's sure his heart stopped beating for a second or two.

There's no hatred in the other man's eyes. He's just considering him with an unreadable look on his face.

After stuttering for a moment, Flint manages to speak again.

"You remember?"

Sighing briefly, Gates steps aside and gestures with his head.

"Come in."

There's no one else in the house, he saw the wife and the kids leaving a while ago, which is a relief.

Slowly walking inside, he looks all around.

They end up seated at the table in the kitchen, and Gates grabs a bottle of whisky from a cabinet.

It still feels absolutely surreal.

_He expected some anger..._

"You saved my little girl's life. She was very, very sick. Thanks to the money you left, we were able to pay for the best treatments. She's never been so healthy before."

Déjà vu washes over them as they sit there, drinking together.

"I recovered my memories two weeks ago. Just woke up one day, and they were all in my head. It was hard to cope, at first. There was nothing but anger. But while I watched the family I built for myself... Seeing my daughter so full of life... I realized it was pointless to feed those ill feelings."

"You-"

"No. You're not forgiven. You will  _never_  be. But at least I was able to bury the past. I just hope that life has taught you a few lessons... About  _priorities_."

Taking a drink from the whisky, he nods.

"It did."

"And did you learn?"

Forcing a half smile, he sighs. "I'm still learning."

"I once saw Eleanor." Hal says after a while of silence, and Flint meets his eyes again. "I tried looking for her last week, but she's gone from her father's home."

"She's okay. She's with Vane."

Surprise flickers in his eyes.

" _Charles Vane_? He's back too?"

"Many people have come back."

Leaning back on the chair, Hal smiles briefly.

"Well... I always knew these two were bound to end up together sooner or later. Is she really okay?"

His concern for Eleanor is touching, and Flint nods.

"She is, now."

"Where is she?"

_Wish I knew._

"Right now... I don't really know. Somewhere near Thailand."

He doesn't fail to notice the hostility in his old friend's posture, if he can even call him that nowadays...

He sees some anger in his eyes.

But it seems he's doing a good job dealing with that.

And suddenly, the words leave Flint's mouth before he can even think to stop himself.

"Would you like to come back home with me? Eleanor re-opened the tavern, and it's a huge success. You should see it. Besides, the children would love the island."

Hal averts his eyes, thinking for what feels like an eternity.

There's a weak smile on his lips when he looks at Flint's face again.

"It will be good to go home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I'm not stopping before I bring everyone back home... Except for you, Rogers. Sit back down and keep your mouth shut so we can like you lol.


	42. Wild Man, Civilized Man

She wasn't expecting this at all. At first, she was taken aback, to say the least. But now...

Her eyes glint as she watches his every move, completely amazed.

The way his muscles move under his skin as he preys on the fishes, Anne by his side, doing the same.

It's been a month since they arrived at the Island, and it's like he's home.

Eleanor always knew he had this savage side. But all the hidden abilities and skills she's been getting to see lately are a real surprise to her.

A pleasant surprise, she has to admit.

While she's been struggling to adapt, he's a natural at this. Almost like a wild animal, finally returned to the jungle.

At first it nearly scared her, but now she's admiring it.

He walks around like a king of the jungle, he doesn't mind the mosquitoes, he goes days without wearing a shirt, and his hair is constantly loose. He looks more like he did in the past, having abandoned any hair products for now. His beard is a little bit longer, and his skin is even more tanned.

Shoes are also a rare thing for him now, and she has no idea how he doesn't hurt his feet.

He has no problem bathing in the ocean or the spring near the camps, and she has a feeling he's absolutely loving this lifestyle.

Almost every night she has to scold him when he comes into their tent with dirt stains on his skin. He always rolls his eyes, then goes clean up before returning to her. She has yet to let him drag her into the jungle, he's been getting well acquainted with it, spending hours up in the trees, sometimes alone, sometimes with Anne.

Part of her actually wants to let him show her this whole new world, but she's hesitant for now.

And Eleanor would be lying if she said she's not thankful for him. He's helping her feel better in this place. His presence reassures her.

He's the best at building campfires. Getting more and more experienced with spearing fish.

Not to mention all those impressive crafting skills she had no idea he possessed.

The other night, there was a nasty storm and Eleanor woke up with a start when part of their tent was destroyed.

They were instantly soaked, and she was already cursing at the top of her lungs.

But then he sprang into action, grabbing a few ropes he had insisted on bringing from the ship and mending the damage done to the canvas and bamboos as best as he could. After that, they were able to sleep until the morning, but as soon as the light of dawn filled their accommodations, it became clear that the tent would be unable to resist the next storm.

Eleanor was already tense and angry, but when Charles grabbed an axe after lunch and disappeared into the jungle with that damn cart without saying a word to her, her mood got even worse.

Poor Jack spent the whole afternoon trying to make her smile again, to ease her concern, but it was useless.

And just as the sun began to set hours later, when she was sitting on the sand all alone and trying to tell herself she wasn't worried sick, Charles finally showed up in the camp again.

The previously empty cart was filled with logs, vines, tree branches...

He didn't even stop to rest, and she was alarmed and confused when he started to bring their tent down.

But Eleanor soon realized what he was doing, and she had to stop and stare for a while as he worked, separating the unharmed pieces of the blue canvas from the ones that were damaged beyond repair. All the intact bamboo was set aside too and before she knew it, she was asking what she could do to help.

They have spent most of the last two days building their new accommodations together, and this creates a curious bond between them.

She still can't believe how well Charles puts those logs together, cutting, tying this and that with rope and vine, their new tent taking shape right before her eyes. Not to mention, he managed to find the strongest materials.

The result? They're now close to having the best shelter in the whole camp, maybe even better than Shih's, highly resistant to rain and wind. Thanks to Charles and his skills.

The only downside is that they're having to sleep in Jack and Anne's tent with them for now, which results in... Certain limitations to their nights.

But anyway, it's been... Interesting to see her pirate like this.

This is his raw version. The one she wanted to admire back in the 18th century but couldn't.

_Now she can._

A smile tugs at her lips as the two make their way back from the ocean, a basket full of fish in Charles' hands while Anne held their spears.

The ease with which they work together as one still impresses her sometimes.

As mentor and protégée talk just in front of her, Eleanor glances at the redhead's unharmed legs. An involuntary sigh leaves her lips.

She wishes she could do this too. Simply wear a bikini, without bothering with shorts to cover her thighs. And well, in theory, she can.

But she's not ready to let the world see her scars. Maybe one day, she will be brave enough.

Her eyes follow the other woman for only a split second when Anne walks away, and Charles has a half smirk on his face when she looks at him.

"What?"

"I saw that."

Her scoff is automatic and she gets to her feet, taking pleasure in the way his eyes darken briefly when they settle on her breasts, barely covered by the bathing suit top.

"She does look good in a bikini. Might as well enjoy the sight for a moment...  _right_?"

"If I agree, you will castrate me in my sleep, so..."

_Smart answer._

With a smirk, she shoves his shoulder lightly, turning around and starting to walk away.

His fingers close around her wrist though, and she stops, looking at him over her shoulder.

"Anne and I saw... Something in the water earlier today. I'll show you, if they're still around."

" _They_?"

His lips twitch up at the corners, and she reluctantly lets him pull her back towards the ocean.

Their eyes remain locked together, and she only comes back to reality when her feet stop touching the seabed.

"It's perfectly safe. And you won't regret this." Charles reassures her, not letting go of her wrist as they swam to the deeper waters.

Their beloved ship is anchored near the strait, and Eleanor takes a moment to admire her.

They will have to ask for Shih's permission to spend a few nights alone on the ship from times to times, as she has a strict rule that forbids members from sleeping anywhere else other than the campgrounds. But maybe they can convince her. Eleanor misses their old girl and the comfort of the waves.

_Who would've ever known..._

Charles stops suddenly, and she does the same. When she tries to ask what they were looking for, he immediately silences her.

And not even five seconds later there's this brown head peeking out of the water, not too far from them.

She can hear it as the creature breathes, a sharp intake of oxygen, its mouth parting briefly before it disappears beneath the waves again.

It's not alone.

She sees the same small spectacle again and again, and what is her surprise when she glances down, the crystalline waters allowing her to see one of the creatures swimming right under their feet.

Her eyes are filled with wonder as she looks at Charles face.

"Sea turtles."

He just flashes her a half smirk, fingers closing around hers under the water before he pulls her even further away from the beach, until she can't see the seabed when she looks down anymore.

As unsettling as it feels, not knowing what could be lurking under there, she doesn't want to go back to the safety of dry land.

At least not yet.

A soft frown comes to her face when Charles lets go of her hand and dives, and she almost goes after him. After a few moments, he surfaces again - holding something in his arms.

Her mouth parts briefly in surprise, and then she can't help but smile.

It's not too big, but not exactly small either, and as she stares into the creature's curious eyes, her heart feels strangely light.

This moment, this magical moment as she reaches to pet the turtle in her lover's arms, it fills her soul with happiness.

She's almost giddy, and the feeling reminds her of all those Christmas eves spent in Scott's house. Little Madi was always openly excited about the gifts under the tree, and although she tended to act impassive and unimpressed, Eleanor actually felt it all too. The huge excitement, the curiosity and that urge to smile brightly.

She managed to hide it well most of the times, even as a child.

But right now, she wouldn't be able to contain her excitement to save her life.

She's aware of Charles' eyes on her as she talks to the turtle in a soft voice, her fingers stroking whatever she could reach of the slick skin. He must have that stupid, love-struck look on his face, and he's surely reveling in this moment too. But in his case, it has nothing to do with the sea creature, of course.

He always loves to watch her during these moments. When she's smiling wide, her walls completely down, and goddamn it, she's even cooing at the turtle from times to times, as if it's a little baby-

They both think about it at the exact same time, and of course they both choose to ignore that.

When the turtle begins to grow restless, Eleanor opens her mouth to tell him to let it go, but before she can get the words out he's already releasing it.

Watching as the beautiful creature swims away, disappearing under the water, she feels her heart swelling with love.

Of course,  _of course_  this man respects sea creatures. He loves the sea, of course he wouldn't want to disturb its inhabitants, unless if their own survival is concerned.

He only kills fish so they can eat, but murdering like a barbarian is out of the question.

She remembers a bad fight with her ex-husband, three centuries ago.

A pod of approximately 30 whales had been swimming near the island for almost two weeks, and the rare occurrence had Eleanor in awe. She would spend some time on the fort, using a spyglass to try and get a closer look at them, but they wouldn't cooperate too much.

Still, she could see they were there, she could see the water sprays and their bodies breaking through the water sometimes, and it made her smile. How she had wished back then, that she could sail up to that spot... to see them properly.

But her nice mood was ruined when she accidentally heard about her husband's plans.

He wanted the whales taken care of, and she knew  _exactly_  what he meant by that.

Of course she confronted him, and the excuse he gave her was that the huge pod was a disturbance to the ships. She didn't believe that for a second.

Somehow, deep inside, she knew he just wanted to destroy. Like the cold, sadistic bastard he always was. But she buried that knowledge deep in her subconscious, after all, he was her saving grace... Or so she thought.

She tried her best to convince him, she said they would have a problem if those huge dead bodies started to wash up on shore, and he said he just wanted to scare them away.

He said they just needed to hurt or kill one of the babies, then the rest of the pod would surely go away.

That was the first time she ever saw him with other eyes, even if only for a moment. The first time she wondered what kind of man she had married one month prior.

Thankfully, the next day the whales were all gone. They must have sensed the danger. They must have felt the presence of the ruthless monster who lived in the island.

Eleanor did her best to forget this particular episode. But she never truly got over the way Woodes had referred to those beautiful creatures as wild, worthless beasts.

Coming back to the present, she smiles briefly when Charles strokes her chin. And then she almost panics as something slick touches her legs.

Only to look down and gape in pure awe when she sees the turtle swimming by their feet.

It's freaking  _huge_.

Maybe bigger than her, than  _him_ , and it doesn't seem to give a fuck about their presence. Unlike the smaller ones.

"Now  _that's_  what I wanted to show you. Been looking for this one all along." He says with a proud glint in his eyes.

And then he's diving again, this time pulling her with him.

It will always be a mystery to her, how saltwater hurts if it comes in contact with your eyes, but when you're diving you don't feel that sting at all. It's a good thing, because her heart skips a beat as they follow that huge sea turtle underwater, his fingers locked with hers. She would have hated to keep her eyes closed.

Even though her vision is a little blurry, the experience is still magical.

The big creature doesn't even flinch when Eleanor reaches out for it, her free hand holding on to the carapace of its shell, and she smiles wide.

It's a pity they soon need to go back to the surface, and she breathes in deeply as soon as she can.

It felt so incredible. When they go back home, she really needs to search for diving spots and buy some professional equipment for them.

A sudden image comes to her mind, of them diving with the dolphins... And  _Davina_.

Her eyes widen briefly, this joyful look coming to her face as she smiles at all those possibilities...

_Soon._

Soon, they will be happy and in peace.

But most importantly, they will all be together,  _home_.

Her smile doesn't falter as Charles pulls her closer, and she brings her hands to his cheeks.

Not even one of the turtles coming up for air nearby makes her look away from his eyes.

"Thank you... for being who you are."

His only response is to kiss her lips, and she sighs in satisfaction while her hands lock behind his neck.

* * *

**Los Angeles**

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he stares at his phone lock screen.

_Her picture._

Her smile, her blue-green eyes, her smooth, pale skin.

He likes to torture himself, decidedly.

After grabbing his suit jacket, he leaves the guest room and heads to the staircase. Feeling completely numb while doing the buttons of his expensive white shirt.

Not even the excited shrieks and incoherent sounds coming from the kitchen are able to put a smile on his face.

He has agreed to stay at Sarah's for Aiden's sake, but he tries not to talk to her too much.

It bothers him, how much they look like a couple, living together...

_What would Eleanor think, if she knew?_

Swallowing the lump that has formed in his throat, he masks the pain in his eyes before walking into the kitchen.

His son's shrieks die down as soon as those big, grey-blue eyes settle on him. But he barely acknowledges this reaction, a grimace coming to his face as he sees the mess.

Aiden has mashed bananas all over his face and his bib, some of it smeared on the high chair tray cover too. His tiny hands aren't exactly clean either, of course, and Woodes makes sure to stay far away from the high chair.

"Jesus,  _clean_  that child's face." He says, and Sarah frowns at him as he fills a cup with coffee. "We need to teach him how to eat properly, and soon."

She stays silent for a moment.

"He is  _7 months old_..."

"Never too early to learn. He's my child, and the sooner he understands he needs to worry about his image, the better. If we don't teach him, the world will."

Aiden's eyes stay fixed on him even as Sarah sighs and grabs a few tissue papers to clean the mess on his face and hands.

She's the only one who knows just how weird this silence is. Usually, Aiden is a ball of energy in the morning, always shrieking and laughing at everything.

He's never quiet and... almost  _scared_  like this.

"Woodes, he's just a baby... He will have his whole life to worry about his reputation, just let him be little for now. He'll only be like this for a while, we should cherish every minute of it."

He scoffs, then checks his watch.

"The best is yet to come. When he starts to make achievements... That's when we'll have a real reason to cherish everything he does. That little man will make us so proud. Don't you want that time to come sooner?"

"He already makes  _me_  proud."

He just rolls his eyes at that.

"Can you put him in his playpen, while I clean the high chair? I'll give him a bath after that." She asks, unable to hide the dismay in her voice.

He just makes a face, looking at his son's shirt. There's a few baby food stains on the fabric, but they're barely perceptible.

Still, he looks down at his impeccable white shirt, then sets his now empty cup on the sink.

"Sorry. I'll be late for work. I'll buy you a new stuffed animal today, alright, Aiden?" He tries, ruffling the boy's hair a little.

The baby only shies away from his hand.

"Maybe that will make you like me a little better." He says, mostly to himself, then mumbles a quick goodbye to Sarah before walking out of the kitchen.

She waits until the sound of the front door opening and closing reaches her ears, then a heavy sigh leaves her lips.

This is definitely not what she imagined... All she wanted was for him to come home, so they could finally raise their son together... But things have been so  _strange_.

She's trying to pretend everything is perfect, after all, this was everything she had wanted, for so long... She should be grateful to have it now, right?

Her inner conflict isn't the main problem, though.

Since Woodes came back, she can't help but think her baby has been depressed.

It's almost as if he's scared. Is it because he witnessed their nasty fight weeks ago? Because he feels the heavy atmosphere between them?

He acts as if his father is an unwelcome intruder, coming to ruin their perfect little life.

And this  _kills_  her.

Aiden stares at the door of the kitchen for a while, as if making sure his father was really gone. Then he looks over at Sarah and reaches for her.

The fear in his eyes is clear as the light of day, and he hides his face in her hair when she picks him up from the high chair.

"It's okay, baby... He's your dada. He won't hurt us." Aiden pulls away as she walks into the living room, looking her in the eyes, this soft scowl on his face.

"Can you say that? Can you say ' _dada_ '?"

She's probably asking too much from him.

The only thing that leaves his mouth other than shrieks, cries and mumbles is "bow-wow" whenever he sees a dog, and maybe it's too early, but she really wants to hear him say dada.

Woodes would be ecstatic, that's for sure. He's anxious for some milestones.

Of course it's normal for every parent to wait eagerly for their babies' achievements...

_Then why does it make her feel so uneasy?_

* * *

**Shih Island**

"Guess you're Tarzan and Jane now."

Jack's sarcastic voice sounds from behind her, but she doesn't look at him.

They can hear him walking away, leaving them alone in the jungle.

After those beautiful moments with the turtles two days ago, Eleanor finally decided to bend and let him show her some more of this new, mysterious place, but she's starting to regret it already.

She thought they would simply walk through the jungle like normal people, but it seems he has other plans.

He actually expects her to follow him up in the trees.

"Did you and Anne grow up with monkeys, back in that orphanage?"

He shrugs, that half smirk not leaving his lips for a moment.

"There was a forest behind that hellhole. We were always climbing trees and hiding from Jack and the adults."

"I guess that explains a lot."

Another thing she wasn't expecting. These two climb just like monkeys, frequently disappearing and somehow getting around the jungle without even needing to come down.

And they never slip, they never fall.

If he thinks she's just going to do the same thing, he's very mistaken.

She grew up in a  _mansion_ , for fuck's sake.

"I promise this is not just some scheme to piss you off. And you'll be just fine."

She scoffs, crossing her arms and watching as he started to climb one of the trees. All those branches and the curious shape of the trunk seem to provide decent leverage... Enough for her to be able to climb too.

_Is she actually considering this stupid idea?_

"Trust me."

Her eyes drop to his extended hand. What the fuck is getting herself into?

"Do you believe me?"

_Bastard always knows what to say._

Her hand is in his before she can think twice and try to stop herself. Her eyes widen briefly as he pulls her up, grabbing her arm with his free hand and supporting her as best as he could.

She struggles at first, but then she's suddenly able to throw her arms around his neck. He'll tease her about it later, but it's the first time she ever does something like this.

So she'll just give herself a break.

As it turned out, the tree he chose for their starting point was pretty easy to climb, and she was grateful for that.

Now she understands how Charles and Anne are able to move around in the jungle without needing to come down.

Some of the highest branches, it's as if they're connected with those of the other trees, forming natural bridges.

They're large, thick and strong enough to support their weight as they go from tree to tree, and she's scared to death at first. But soon, it becomes a simple walk. No climbing, no grasping at branches, just walking.

She still wishes they had some sort of safety cable though.

Her hand remains in his all the time, and his fingers tighten around hers every time she slips or begins to lose her balance.

He won't let her fall. She's sure of it by now.

But when they reach a startingly large, thick tree, she's exhausted.

It's much higher than the others, and when he starts to climb it, she just sits down on the branch, wiping her forehead and letting out a heavy sigh.

Just to think they will have to do this all over again, in order to go back to the camp...

Maybe they can go back down and walk like humans, this time.

"If you don't come, I'll leave you here all alone."

If looks could kill, Charles would be dropping to the ground right now.

She glares daggers at him as he waits, holding on to vines and the smaller branches, just waiting for her to start climbing with him.

She knows he's perfectly capable of following through with that threat, so after taking a big gulp of water from the canteen hanging from her shoulder, Eleanor reaches for his hand and the nearest vine.

Tugging at it to make sure it was safe, she begins the tough task.

He somehow manages to climb using only one arm and his feet, his free hand outstretched towards her, so he'll be ready to catch her if she slips.

He doesn't need to, thankfully.

Her eyes are tired, and she's clenching her jaw in annoyance.

But when they break though the forest canopy, when there are no more leaves blocking the view, her jaw drops.

Charles urges her to keep her attention focused on climbing for now, and she obeys, trying not to look at anything other than the vines.

It feels like an eternity, but then they finally reach a decent branch, and she takes a deep breath once they're both settled on it.

_They came so far._

She can see the bay where the camp is located from here, it looks so small... The sun is setting, and she sees the ocean, she sees that vast, seemingly endless sea of trees all around them, the ground hidden by all those leaves.

They can see half the Island from here, and it's absolutely breathtaking.

"As soon as Anne and I discovered this spot, I knew I had to bring you here."

The corners of her lips twitch up and she meets his eyes as he drinks from his own canteen.

"Any regrets?"

She narrows her eyes at him, pretending to think, then takes another look at the gorgeous, unique view.

"An elevator would have been nice."

He scoffs at that, but there's this little smirk on his lips, refusing to falter as he reaches to brush away some of the hair sticking to her forehead.

"You look so  _stunning_."

Eleanor actually laughs at the words, in pure disbelief.

"I'm sweaty and covered in dirt. You've seen me in all those expensive dresses after the parties my father used to throw at the mansion... how can you possibly think I look good now?"

He shrugs, frowning as if she had just asked the most stupid question in the world.

"You look happy." It's his simple answer. And it makes her heart flutter, her sarcastic smirk vanishing. "You look  _free_."

She can't stop herself from kissing his lips.

For the next hour they just sit there, getting some rest, watching the sunset and preparing themselves for the long journey back to Madame Shih's camp.

As the sun starts to disappear on the horizon, the sounds of the jungle creatures heading off to bed echoing from below, Eleanor decides it's high time they get a move on. It will be dark soon, and they shouldn't push their luck.

Besides, she's hungry after all this adventure.

Charles agrees to go back to ground level, and they start to look for a decent tree, one that offered an easy way down so Eleanor would be able to climb back safely.

They're just about to move from one branch to another when the blonde frowns.

There's something strange under her right foot, she can feel it even through her boot, it's as if something's wrapped around...

Her eyes move down and her breath catches when she realizes she's stepping on a rope.

Not vine. A  _rope_. Wrapped around the branch.

Shih's words about the borders echo in her mind, and she glances up to see Charles a few feet away from her. He realizes she has stopped, turning around with a questioning look on his face.

That's when she commits the stupid mistake of looking back down - this time catching sight of the macabre scene below.

Her breath catches, and then Charles is suddenly pushing her back towards the trunk, his hand covering her mouth as her back hits the rough wood.

She can feel the tears burning in her eyes when she looks at his face. He brings his index finger up to his mouth in a "shh" gesture, his features serious and somber.

The image of that decomposing,  _hanging_  body is burned in her mind, only now the putrid smell fills her nostrils. She  _knew_   _it_ , she  _knew_  this was a stupid idea... Since they're using the trees to move around, they went over the signs, they didn't realize they were close to the borders until it was too late-

_Why_  is he silently telling her to stay quiet?

Her eyes move from his face to the ground, avoiding the hanging corpse.

But her heart leaps to her throat anyway.

There's an armed man standing guard just below the tree. If he sees them, they're  _dead_.

They will be part of the warnings, they will be hanging from the trees too...

_Don't panic_ , she says to herself, fearful eyes locked with Charles' as they communicate without words.

They just need to stay quiet until the Spaniard walks away, then they go back down and run like hell.

Movement from below makes her look down again, and she watches as the guy turns around.

Her blood turns to  _ice_.

* * *

The fear in those blue green depths is piercing his heart so painfully.

_Fuck, how could he have been so stupid?_

He was so focused on the trees all the time, he should have paid attention to the ground, to the branches, to the  _warnings_.

Now  _she_ is in danger, and it's all his fault.

_Maybe he's not so different from Rogers, after all._

Self hatred is taking him over, and he keeps his hand pressed to her mouth, his free arm safely around her waist, because she's  _trembling_.

He can't let her slip, he can't let her fall.

Twigs break below the branch they're occupying as the Spaniard turns around, and those scared eyes follow his movements.

He can't describe the look that comes to her face.

It's the way people look when a violent death comes to knock on their door, such horror, such despair.

It's a good thing his hand is still covering her mouth, or she would have screamed.

What the hell could have caused such a reaction? He can practically hear her heart drumming, she's trembling even harder, and tears are flowing from her eyes when she looks at his face again.

And then it hits him.

_This is the look people have when faced with their murderer._

Jaw clenching hard, he moves them so they're on another branch, the trunk keeping her from seeing the fucking bastard down there.

Leaves offer a better cover too, and he does his best to shield her body with his.

Her tears simply keep coming, her breathing becoming ragged, and he needs to keep her calm.

If she has a panic attack now, they're absolutely fucked.

There's no way in  _hell_  he will let that monster kill Eleanor all over again.

Pressing her against the trunk, he lets her hide her face in the crook of his neck, caressing her hair soothingly, and they're so freaking lucky she's such a strong woman. She's managing to hold it together, to stay silent, to accept his comfort and use it as a crutch. At least for now, she's understanding she can't do this alone.

And that only makes her even stronger in his eyes.

Her arms go around him too and she clings to him for dear life as he kisses her forehead.

Darkness surrounds them, and just as Charles is considering the idea of taking a peek below, to check whether that asshole was still there or not, there's the sound of retreating footsteps.

He can hear both their heartbeats. All his senses are on full alert as he lets go of her and moves to their previous spot.

Not even two seconds later, he's grabbing her shoulders.

"I'll go down, want you to just jump into my arms."

All she manages is a quick nod of her head, and in a matter of moments he's back on the ground.

Making sure the Spaniard was really gone, Charles holds his arms out for her. Thankfully, she doesn't even stall, and he's quick to set her on her feet after catching her.

Her legs are unsteady when she tries to run by his side, and he wastes no time.

"Arms around my neck. Legs around my waist." He instructs, turning his back to her, and for once, she has no snarky retorts.

It's been centuries since the last time she let him give her a piggyback ride.

The thought is brief and as soon as she's ready, he takes off running through the dark jungle, her weight not slowing him down in the slightest.

He needs to get her to safety, and  _hell_ , that's exactly what he's going to do.

* * *

**Los Angeles**

While Charles is running back to Shih's camp with Eleanor, on the other side of the globe there's a pitiful, disheveled figure unlocking a door and stepping inside a house.

It's three in the morning in California, and the drunk man is struggling to go up the staircase.

Until a door opens upstairs and his ex-wife appears with a sleepy look on her face, tying the front of her robe.

"Where were you? Thought you were coming home directly after work."

He doesn't answer, but the alcohol on his breath does that for him.

There's silence as she helps him up the stairs, and they walk past the nursery. He vaguely realizes the guest room is the opposite way.

Once they're in Sarah's bedroom, she makes him drink two glasses full of water, before helping him out of the suit jacket and shirt.

She knows she would be unable to drag him to the shower, so she just takes his shoes off and makes him lie down.

For some reason, he obeys. He must be exhausted, the poor thing.

"Do you want some medicine for the hangover?"

"I'm fine." He practically growls, and she flinches a little.

"Keep your voice down. Aiden's asleep." It's a soft, meek request, not an order, and he scoffs at her.

His eyes seem haunted while he stares up at the ceiling.

"What brought this on, Woodes?"

"Have you ever felt so worried... You can barely  _breathe_."

His slurred words make her sigh, and she carefully moves to lie down by his side. He shows no form of protest, and she relaxes a little.

"When Aiden was battling for his life in the hospital. I felt as if... my whole world was crumbling apart all around me. I just wanted him to keep breathing. Wanted to know if his heart was still beating."

"Then you know exactly how I feel right now." Sarah closes her eyes, feeling the all too familiar sting of tears behind her lids. She expected him to go on ranting about Eleanor and the monster who "kidnapped" her, but what comes out of his mouth next has her utterly surprised.

"What a perfect little human being we have created together."

She can't believe it. Opening her eyes, she finds him still staring at the ceiling. There's something on his mind, and she props herself up on an elbow, gaze fixed on him.

"My whole life, I have been waiting for this. I always thought I'd be the  _best_  father ever. Things are not going as I planned."

"What do you mean?"

She detects the briefest hind of sadness in his eyes when he finally looks at her face.

"Heard you on the phone with my brother last week. You told him Aiden's been depressed since I came back." Shaking his head, he frowns at her. "Why do you think that is?"

He's acting like he's in a fragile state, and it's the weirdest thing ever...

"I don't know. It will take him some time. He just needs to get used to you, that's all." Reaching to caress that scar on his cheek, she sighs. "You really need to cooperate. Coming home drunk isn't exactly the best way to make him like you."

He lets her touch his face for a moment before moving away. Retreating her hand, she watches him for a few long, silent minutes.

"Woodes?" Her tone is soft and submissive, almost shy. He doesn't meet her eyes, but she's not discouraged. "You did the best you could. But you need to let her go. This is killing you."

Sarah realizes her mistake when he stiffens, his body language going from passive to aggressive.

"You were ready to put her life in Low's hands. What kind of woman does that to another?"

"The kind who's desperate for revenge."

He scoffs, this dry, humorless chuckle leaving his lips.

"Because that's  _all_  you ever wanted, isn't it?"

The amount of hatred in his voice is startling. He mumbles what sound like " _little viper_ ", and she scowls, profoundly hurt.

"What did I ever do to you?"

His jaw is clenched hard, he looks like he's about to snap, and for a moment she fears for her safety. She knows he's perfectly capable of taking his anger out on her, especially considering the state he's in.

He  _has_  hit her in the past, he can easily do it again.

But Sarah is relieved to see him calm down, slowly but surely, and she doesn't dare to say a word or even  _move_ , scared of bringing his anger back.

After what feels like an eternity, he speaks again, his words not so slurred anymore.

"I'm hiring spies all over the globe. By now, I have eyes and ears in almost every port in North and South America. It's difficult, not doing it in person, but I'm managing."

She knows he's rubbing it in her face. This is his way of telling her that he's here with her, but his mind and his heart still belong to the little blonde witch.

"I can't believe you're spending all your money on this-"

"If money's your main worry, rest assured. Remember I left you a generous part of my fortune before I went looking for my wife with Low. That money is for Aiden, and I will not touch it. What I do with the rest of my wealth, however, is none of your concern."

Shaking her head, Sarah grips a handful of the sheets. "Can't you see? You ask me why our son is hesitating to trust you... Babies sense things. They really do. He knows you're not here body and soul, he knows your mind is elsewhere. And like any other child, he needs our full attention, our full love-"

"You think I don't love my son?" His voice comes out so harsh, louder, and Sarah is surprised when she  _almost_  says that this is exactly what she thinks.

"I will do anything for that boy, but I will also do anything for  _her_. Aiden has you and my brother, but Eleanor? I'm  _everything_  she has, her only hope, again. And like it or not, when I have to, I  _will_  leave again."

"You talk like a madman sometimes..."

She can't believe she said it out loud.

His eyes fill with fury, and she moves away from him.

" _Have you lost your fucking mind_?" He yells at her, and a second later they hear baby cries coming from the nursery down the hall. Soft at first, but growing stronger and louder with each passing moment.

Sarah doesn't say a word to him while she gets to her feet and rushes out of the bedroom.

Aiden looks at her as soon as she enters the nursery, tears rolling down his chubby cheeks. Poor boy was startled awake, and no baby ever deals too well with that. He seems absolutely terrified, screaming at the top of his lungs, even coughing sometimes. His little hands reach for her and she runs to the crib to pick him up.

He doesn't stop crying, even as he clings to her and she strokes his soft hair.

"Shh, baby, it's okay... Dada's not angry."

Her words only make him scream louder, and she feels a sudden wave of hatred crashing over her.

_He did this._

He woke her baby up, now Aiden's scared to death and it's all  _his_  fault.

She has the sudden instinct to lock the nursery door. Woodes is drunk, God only knows what he could do if their son doesn't stop crying. After taking care of that, she heads over to the rocking chair near the bookshelf.

It takes her almost an hour to make Aiden calm down and go back to sleep. After placing him back in the crib, she watches him for a while. Her heart clenches every time he moves, soft sobs still wracking his small body from times to times, even while he sleeps.

With a heavy sigh, she carefully leaves the nursery.

Her ex-husband is sound asleep when Sarah returns to her room. Her face softens.

He looks years younger in his sleep. As if he doesn't have a single worry in his mind, as if he's at peace with the world and with himself.

Things will get better. She has faith. They  _will_  be happy again, and they will raise a happy child.

Lying down by his side, she admires his profile for a minute before finally closing her tired eyes.

As Sarah slips into a deep slumber, she keeps repeating the same mantra in her mind over and over again.

_They will be happy again._

_They will._

* * *

**Shih Island**

Eleanor silently ordered him to put her down, shortly before they reached the campgrounds.

Of course, it would be too much humiliation, if everyone saw her clinging to his back as he carried her.

She makes sure to keep herself from shaking, her chin raised high as they walk through the place. She also takes the lead, walking in front of him while they head over to Jack and Anne's tent.

Her legs almost give out from under her, as soon as they're protected from any prying eyes. Helping her to the hammock, Charles looks over at his two partners in crime.

They're watching the scene curiously from the bunk, Anne's head on Jack's lap as he runs his fingers through her hair in a loving gesture.

"What happened? Darling, you look like you've seen a ghost."

Eleanor's face looks completely pale as she meets Jack's eyes, swallowing hard. "In a way... I have."

He scowls, and Anne sits up as he leans forward. "Charles, what the hell happened in that jungle?"

"We found the borders." He speaks in a gruff voice, helping Eleanor out of her boots before procuring a wet rag to clean the sweat and the dirt from her face and arms.

Watching this, and seeing how shaken the blonde is, Jack curses under his breath and leaves the bunk. Grabbing the jar of water from the makeshift table, he fills one of the wooden cups with it before heading over to the hammock and offering it to Eleanor.

She accepts gratefully, drinking slowly while Anne got to her feet too. The redhead crosses her arms, watching them and taking a few hesitant steps closer.

"The hanging corpses." Jack says, but the blonde shakes her head.

"It wasn't just that. We saw one of them. I recognized him... As the man who broke into the Barlow house, back...  _then_."

Silence reigns after she says those words, and Jack meets his leader's eyes briefly. Knowing exactly what was on his mind.

"We've been talking to Shih, she says we're to gather as many recruits as we can the next couple of times we're allowed to visit the mainland. This needs to be done  _before_  we make any move against the Spaniards."

"That will look so fucking suspicious." Anne says, shaking her head at her partner's words as she reaches the hammock.

Charles agrees completely. "What we really need is a whole army, ready... So the farmers won't even have the time to suspect anything before we attack. Integrating our soldiers into the community is too risky."

"There's not much we can do." Eleanor's voice is tired, still somewhat shaky, and she watches as her pirate settles on the hammock by her side.

"She's right. Or what, do you plan on calling your uncle and asking him to come here, with his men?" Charles only sighs heavily in response to Jack's question. "That's what I thought."

There's a few moments of silence between the four, then Jack reaches out to squeeze Eleanor's shoulder, offering her a smile when she meets his eyes.

"You'll be just fine."

All she manages is a weak nod of her head, and she's thankful when the other couple leaves the tent to go have some dinner with the rest of the community.

"Ironically... This would be our salvation. What Jack said."

Fear flickers in her eyes at the thought. "But we can't."

"Of course not. We came here to escape him and those men in the first place." Charles reassures her, and she leans against him with a sigh.

"Do you think he has sworn war upon us all, after what we did to his kingdom?"

"Stop that." She frowns in confusion while he strokes her hair, his arms safely around her. "You're trying to hide."

Letting out a shuddering breath, she buries her face in the crook of his neck, while he uses his foot to rock the hammock back and forth slowly.

"For a moment back there... I was  _sure_  it was over. I was sure that any minute that disgusting pig was going to shoot you... And that I would be next."

She hates how weak she sounds. But after the horror they just went through, who can blame her?

His arms tighten around her shaking form.

"That man we saw today... He won't ever lay a finger on you again. I won't let him. And he will pay for everything. I will make him pay.  _We_  will make him pay."

Of course he wouldn't take this away from her.

"Promise me you won't kill him while I'm not around to see it. Unless your life is in danger, that is. But otherwise...  _Promise_  me I will have my revenge."

Kissing the top of her head, Charles feels his heart swelling with pride.

"I will bring that man to you, I will make him kneel at your feet, and  _you_  will choose his fate. His sentence."

Swallowing hard, she grasps at the string of his necklace, the macabre promise making her feel a thousand times better.

His words and the harshness of his voice contrast with the tender caresses of his hands, and she inhales his rich scent deeply.

Instead of going outside for dinner like the rest of the community, they just remain in the hammock, not letting go of each other for a second.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously, I wanted to show a few differences between "wild" man and "civilized" man in this chapter. Also to explore more of the Island and finally bring the REAL Spaniard into this.
> 
> And yes, another chapter title inspired by an episode of LOST (Man of Science, Man of Faith) :D


	43. Far From Home

_The whole time zone thing can get pretty confusing, and since we'll be alternating between Thailand, Los Angeles, Nassau and the Bavarian Alps in this chapter, I will be writing what time is it in the current location when I shift scenes ;)_

* * *

**Shih Island**

**11:00 P.M.**

Sure enough, when they come back to their tent, Charles and Eleanor are still just where they left them.

He's lying in the hammock, only one of his feet on the ground, he's using it to rock them back and forth in a soothing manner.

It's almost as if he's lulling the blonde in his arms to sleep, and Jack and Anne have to stop and take in the sight for a moment.

Even after everything they've been through in this life, it's still strange to see these two like this.

_So at peace._

Eleanor's eyes are barely open, she's blinking heavily as if struggling to stay awake like a stubborn child. Her left hand is grasping the string of his necklace, the other one tangled in his hair as she rests her head on his chest, her legs between his.

She doesn't even try to move into a less compromising position when her tired eyes settle on them.

"You two missed dinner. There was fish, fish and... well, fish." Jack tells them, letting the flap fall closed as Eleanor yawns adorably.

"We didn't feel like eating."

"Understandable." He says, watching as Anne walked over to the bunk before meeting Eleanor's eyes and offering her a gentle smile. "How are you feeling, darling?"

The corners of her lips curve upwards too and she sighs.

"Just to think he's in the same Island as I am... This feels like such a horrible journey to the past... Stuck on a place filled with Spaniards who are our enemies."

She sounds so sleepy, so exhausted. It makes his heart clench. It still amazes him sometimes; how deeply he has come to care about this woman.

But he knows full well that she's not the only one who's struggling with her emotions right now.

"What about you, king of the jungle?" Charles just rolls his eyes at his words, and he shrugs. "At least you're not growling like a savage beast. Yet. How is he feeling, love?"

He sees the way Eleanor tries to move even closer to his leader. "He blames himself. He thinks he's put me into harm's way, and I can't convince him otherwise."

Jack sighs. He was already expecting that answer.

"Pick your battles." He says, reaching for the extra blanket on the makeshift table and throwing it to Charles.

It can get chilly on the island during the night.

Anne moves to let him in the bunk too when he walks over to it, and he looks at the hammock again to see Charles adjusting the blanket, making sure it was covering Eleanor's body properly.

His lips curve into a wicked grin. "Goodnight, young lovers."

The words make Eleanor chuckle softly against the skin of her pirate's neck. She was right, it did become an inside joke among them. She hears it when Anne hits him, mumbling an " _idiot_ ".

Then the candles go out and darkness surrounds them.

There's some commotion from the bunk at first, mumbled complaints and a slap or two before they finally get comfortable enough to go to sleep.

Charles kisses her forehead, and she closes her tired eyes.

* * *

**Los Angeles**

**09:00 A.M.**

His head is pounding.

His mouth is dry and his mind is so foggy.

_What happened last night?..._

Suddenly fully awake, he sits up in bed.  _Her_  bed.

And to his horror, his chest is naked.

But he still has his pants on. Good.

He had too much to drink, but nothing happened between them. God, he would loathe himself forever if he slept with that  _viper_  again.

His eyes narrow when he looks at the bedside table. There's a glass full of cool water, and a pill to treat his hangover.

_At least Sarah has her uses._

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he swallows the medicine and takes big gulps of the water until the glass is empty. His throat and mouth feel better now, and he rubs his forehead while sighing heavily.

And then something on the doorway catches his attention.

He looks up to see Aiden in his white and blue baby walker, he's standing there with the device's help, staring at him with big, curious eyes.

Although Woodes can clearly see the fear in those light-blue orbs.

"What are you doing in here, child?"

As soon as he speaks, Aiden jumps slightly, starting to turn around so he could "walk" away.

But his father gets to his feet and rushes to him, picking him up from the walker.

"Where's Sarah? How can she leave you all alone? Don't worry. You'll have a decent mama in no time." He says, mostly to himself, while checking every room upstairs. "Doesn't she know those things are bad for your development? You shouldn't be using a walker."

Shaking his head, he unlocks the child safety gate at the top of the stairs. At least his stupid ex-wife remembered to leave it closed.

He hears the vacuum cleaner as soon as he comes down the stairs, it's coming from one of the sitting rooms. So  _that's_  what she's doing.

"Would it have killed her to leave you in the crib or the damn playpen? Irresponsible wench." He mumbles, already feeling his throat go dry from lack of hydration again.

Aiden is already starting to whine in his arms so he sets the baby in the playpen before walking to the kitchen.

Nursing on a big glass of water, he checks every single report.

It's a good thing it's Saturday and he doesn't have to work. It always takes some time to go over all of his spies' reports.

No news, as usual.

But this is bound to change soon. The Ranger needs to make port at some point.

"How hungover are you?" That meek voice makes his blood boil. His fingers tighten around the glass as he turns around.

God, how he  _hates_  her.

How he hates to see her with his son in her arms, to see her putting him on the high chair and feeding him... How he hates to see her being a mother when it should be Eleanor here with him.

_It's her baby, not Sarah's._

That little, crazed voice echoes in his mind and he struggles to get a hold of his consciousness. Sometimes he wonders if he could actually be slowly going insane, but the thought is soon dismissed.

"Since you don't have work today... I was thinking we should do something, just the three of us. Aiden loves going to the park, seeing the dogs... Maybe if you share these moments with him, he'll start to warm up to you. What do you think?"

Staring out the window, he mumbles a "sure", his mind swimming with questions. As usual.

Where is she now? The image of her, locked in a cold cell in the bowels of that pitiful ship soon comes to his mind, and he clenches his jaw.

Hopefully, she's not in pain. Hopefully, Vane is at least feeding her properly and letting her have a blanket.

She's so  _smart_. Maybe she can find a way to fool those bastards and escape right under their noses. Another reason for him to stay put. She could actually be on her way back to him already... Hope never dies, especially when you're in love.

He wonders what his precious jewel is doing right now...

* * *

**Shih Island**

**01:00 A.M.**

The moonlight filtering in through a few cracks in the canvas lets her see his face.

It's like the hammock has turned into a cocoon of warmth and safety, the blanket protecting them from the chilly night air.

Everything is quiet, peaceful.

And yet, they're unable to sleep.

They were so tired two hours ago, and now they can't even keep their eyes closed.

Is it because of what happened in the jungle? Are they still scared of losing each other?

For the past hour they've been just staring at each other's face, the soft snoring from the bunk letting them know Jack and Anne were sound asleep.

They're completely still... And then Charles suddenly closes the distance between them.

She's not sure if he meant it to be just a chaste, reassuring kiss... She's not sure if he wanted more.

But she can't help herself.

Deepening the kiss, she brings one hand to his face. Her left leg tangles with his as he grips her waist and rolls his hips against her.

It's been three long days and damn it, she can  _feel_  him.

Her hand trails down his abdomen on its own accord, fingers flirting with the waistline of the ripped, camo bermuda shorts. The way his breath catches when she cups him through the fabric sends a shiver down her spine.

He tries to cover her body with his but they can't exactly move too well, unless they want to fall off the hammock. It makes too much noise too, so he gives up and just moves onto his side instead, pulling her left leg over his hip a little bit too harshly.

She's not sure where this is going. She's not sure how it's going to end.

But there's no way in  _hell_  she'll be able to put a stop to it.

_Not that she wants to, of course._

When he reaches under the knee-length skirt, unceremoniously pulling her underwear aside, she glances at the bunk over her shoulder, barely able to see the sleeping couple. But her focus immediately goes back to him as his fingers move against her, pressing inside, goosebumps raising on her arms while she stares in his eyes.

It's as if her fingers have a mind of their own, Eleanor is not fully aware of her actions as she hastily gets rid of what little clothing he was wearing. In a matter of seconds, she's naked from the waist down under the blanket too, and she wastes no time.

Leg still over his thigh, she angles her hips as best as she can, her cold hand gripping his length, guiding him. Her eyes squeeze shut, mouth parting in a silent O when he pushes inside.

Bringing both arms around his neck, she moves with him, meeting him thrust for thrust, and they have to kiss in order to keep silent.

The slow rhythm never lasts for too long. Not with them.

Their movements grow more and more desperate, causing the hammock to rock beneath them, its noise drowning out their heavy breathing.

But they're not alone in this tent and when an involuntary moan leaves her lips, Charles' hand flies up to cover them, his thrusts becoming even more violent.

Her eyes are wide with desire, but then they hear the other couple stir in their sleep. Anne mumbles something unintelligible, and they stop immediately.

The hammock goes still again, their hearts beating wildly as they look in each other's eyes.

There's no way they will be able to control themselves like this.

And if they resume that mad pace, the hammock will be ruined long before they're done.

She breathes out sharply through her nose when he pulls out, regretfully disconnecting their bodies. But he's not done with her, even if their current sleeping quarters offer so many limitations.

Lips attacking her neck, he brings his right hand to the apex of her thighs again.

For a moment she only enjoys the sensations, the unspeakable things those fingers are doing to her. She's grasping at his hair, his shoulder, her chest heaving.

Each pump of his index finger, each flick of his thumb brings her closer to the edge. And if she's going to fall, she's taking him with her.

Her hand is shaking slightly while he adds another finger, and he feels so warm against her palm, the velvety skin making her sigh in satisfaction. Eyes locked together, they work each other up, he's still slick with her arousal and this makes things even easier.

From times to times, he withdraws his fingers and joins their bodies again, thrusting two or three times then pulling out before he gets too carried away, and this is such a  _torture_.

They really need to finish building their new tent, and  _soon_.

He sucks hard on her pulse point once, twice, and she bites her lower lip to keep herself from moaning at the mix of pain and pleasure while rubbing the head of his cock against her inner thigh, her hand still stroking him firmly.

The heat is building fast, and they soon need to lock lips again in order to silence each other.

Their teeth clash together sometimes, but they're too desperate to mind it. They know they need more, but this is just so fucking good. She knows he's close, his breathing becoming heavier, the fingers of his free hand gripping her back, her thigh, trying to pull her even closer. Her breath catches when she feels him twitching in her grip, a groan sounding at the back of his throat. A second later she feels the hot spurts on the skin of her thigh as he rocks against her hand. It's too much, and his release triggers hers.

_It always does._

He swallows her sharp moan as she comes hard on his fingers, before she breaks their kiss and buries her face in his neck. Trying hard to catch her breath.

An entire minute of peaceful silence goes by, and when they're both recovered, they look over at the bunk.

Anne is facing the hammock, but her eyes are closed and she's breathing softly. Jack's arms are around her, and even though the redhead is in front of him, they can see that he's still out like a light too. They're blissfully unaware of what just happened only a few feet away from where they're sleeping.

They both chuckle at the same time, meeting each other's eyes again.

"Can't believe we actually got away with that." She whispers, fingers tracing his jawline softly.

The wicked half smirk that comes to his lips makes her smile widen, and she looks at her thighs before reaching down to touch the thick fluid still covering them.

"I'll go get a rag." Charles whispers, and her arm tightens around him instinctively.

"It's okay. Just stay here?"

He watches her face closely for a moment before nodding his head. How could he ever deny her anything?

To his amazement, she smears his essence all over her thigh with her index and middle finger before bringing them to her lips and licking them clean, her eyes never leaving his. She even hums in satisfaction at the taste.

If they weren't drained of all their energy right now, this would have immediately caused them to begin round two.

She offers him a soft smile before he kisses her. It's calm and slow this time.

After making sure they were decent again, just in case the blanket fell during the night, they smile weakly at each other, his arms holding her close as she tangled her legs with his.

Now that they're sated and their hearts feel lighter, sleep claims them in a matter of seconds.

* * *

**Los Angeles**

**04:00 P.M.**

_-Are you sure you don't want to sleep? It must be around 1 in the morning in there._

She tries to contain her smile while sending the text, actually succeeding for now.

Billy's response comes quickly, as always.

_"-It's alright. I woke up late, Davina decided to let me sleep in today, for some reason."_

Abigail nearly chuckles at that.

They've been texting each other since the moment she woke up this morning, and this helps ease the ache in her heart.

Does she actually miss him that much?

_-Guess who's officially emancipated?_

_"-Really? That's some great news! Thought it took longer."_

_-It usually does, but Flint gave them a little push... Flint's money, actually._

_"-I see... What are you going to do now?"_

_-I don't know._

_"-I wish you the best of luck, then. Whatever you chose ;)"_

That winking face finally makes her smile wide, and for some reason it also makes her heart beat faster. She automatically imagines him winking, a blush coming to her cheeks at the thought.

"What's making you so smiley? Or should I say...  _Who_?" Miranda's voice brings her back to planet earth and Abigail looks up at her. She has this conspiring, knowing look on her face. "Is there something I should know, young lady?"

"His name is Billy." Flint tells the lawyer, and the teen's eyes widen in disbelief, her cheeks burning as she looks between the two of them.

How... How did he even know-

He must have some sort of mind reading power.

"Hmm... Is Billy a decent guy?" Miranda inquiries, looking from him to Abigail again, and she can see they're having fun with this.

It takes her a while to find her voice again.

"He - he's my  _friend_."

The lawyer laughs, the corners of Flint's lips twitching up in what could probably be called a smile.  _Probably_.

But he still has this dark hint in his eyes...

"That's how it begins, yes."

Abigail narrows her eyes at the lawyer.

"Whose side are you on?" She mumbles before taking a bite of her sandwich.

They're having a picnic at the park in front of the hotel to celebrate their success in court, and she still has no idea how they managed to drag Flint into this.

All she knows is that Galatea, Miranda's 2 year old Collie absolutely adores him.

It's a funny sight to see. The dog keeps bringing her ball to him and waiting for him to throw it. At first, he tried to ignore her, but then Galatea would lay her head on his lap and whine until he threw the ball again.

As the dog comes back one more time, dropping the slobber covered ball on the bench and staring up at Flint expectantly, they hear some commotion and look at the concrete path leading up to their table. Just as a little guy comes "running" towards Galatea with the help of his walker, shrieking excitedly and yelling "bow-wow" over and over again.

Miranda's first, immediate reaction is to look around, quickly seeing the boy's mother rushing after him.

"I'm so sorry. He loves dogs, and when I realized, he was already halfway to your table." The short haired woman apologizes, reaching her son, and Miranda shakes her head with a wide smile.

"It's quite alright. Well, she loves kids. He can play with her... if it's alright with you?"

"Does she bite?" The mother asks, hesitating to pet Galatea when the Collie comes closer to the walker.

"No, she's an angel. Believe me, she babysits my 1 year old niece all the time."

Finally relaxing, the newly arrived woman crouches down by the walker's side and reaches to stroke the dog's head. This makes her son clap his hands in pure joy.

"What's your name, little love?" Miranda coos at the baby, and Abigail smiles at the scene while Flint watches them.

His heart is fluttering at the sight, although he's trying to ignore that.

And  _something_  about this baby...

_Where_  does he recognize him from?

"His name's Aiden. He's 7 months old." There's a proud smile on the mother's face, and Miranda looks at her again while Aiden reaches for Galatea.

"Your first child?"

"First and only. It was already a miracle that I was able to have him... I would love to keep going, but nature has denied me that blessing."

A sympathetic look comes to the lawyer's face. "I know how that feels. But you're lucky. You have this little angel, as for me, I will never have one of my own... What's your name?"

"Sorry to hear that. I'm Sarah, what about..."

The two women keep talking. But Flint can't hear what they're saying anymore.

_Sarah._

He remembers Eleanor talking about her.

Taking another look at the baby's face, he stiffens.

Now he knows why little Aiden is so familiar. But there's no reason for him to be on alert mode, right? The child's father is currently far, far away.

_Or is he?_

He takes a look around, just to be safe.

His jaw clenches.

That sadistic asshole is talking on his phone on the other side of the park, obviously angry as hell about something.

_His expensive clothes and arrogant air..._

This is the  _bastard_  who tried to rape Eleanor all those months ago, who kidnapped her and kept her trapped like a wild animal.

The man who caused her  _death_.

His right fist is itching to connect with Rogers' jaw, there is so  _much_  he wants to do to that sorry excuse of a man.

But he can't.

_Not here. Not now._

Seeing that Miranda was still distracted with Sarah and Aiden, he meets Abigail's eyes.

"We need to go back to the hotel right now."

She frowns in confusion. "Why?"

" _Now_."

Grabbing her wrist, Flint gets to his feet and leads her away.

"We'll talk later." He calls over his shoulder, and Miranda finds the sudden departure very weird. But her focus soon returns to the overly excited baby and Galatea. It seems kids are her weak spot.

Making sure Rogers hadn't seen them, he crosses the street with Abigail. Thankfully the hotel is right in front of them, and he pulls out his phone as soon as they're safely inside.

_Come on, pick up... Pick up._

The force of his thoughts is so huge, that for a moment Flint actually feels as if he's sending them all the way over to Thailand.

But still, his call goes straight to voicemail, that bossy voice filling his ears.

He cancels the call before hearing the rest of Eleanor's automatic message, resisting the urge of throwing his phone against the nearest wall.

Damn it.

_Damn it._

Trying to control his anger, he gets into one of the elevators with Abigail.

There's so much he wants Eleanor to know. He wants to tell her about Gates. About Abigail and the emancipation.

He needs to talk to someone about Miranda. He needs to let her know about Rogers.

Most of all, he needs to make sure she's safe and sound.

If there are no news soon, he'll probably end up traveling to Thailand. And if anyone dares to say he's acting like an over-protective parent, he'll shoot them in the head.

* * *

**Shih Island**

**08:00 A.M.**

Her first instinct is to grasp the string of his necklace tighter, to make sure he's still here. Because she may be waking up but she's not quite ready to open her eyes just yet.

There's a soft rocking motion, and it takes her a couple of seconds to understand that it's the hammock, and not the waves cradling their ship.

Stretching briefly, Eleanor finally opens her eyes. The first thing she sees is his face.

He's watching her closely, the blanket is gone but his arms are still around her. He's probably using his foot to rock the hammock slowly.

This feels nice. They should probably get one of these for their cabin. She'll keep that in mind once they're home and she goes shopping for a canopy for their bunk.

"How long have you been watching me like an idiot?" Her voice is still sleepy and she's trying to wake up fully.

She soon remembers the strange dreams she had.

"You mean in this life? Or-"

"I mean this morning, you lovestruck fool." She has to laugh briefly, glad to see he's in a better mood now.

Their little audacious escapade hours ago must have worked wonders.

_Pirate._

He's such an infuriating idiot, and she wouldn't have him any other way.

"Since I woke up. Maybe half an hour ago. You were doing that thing with your face. Frowning softly then relaxing. And trying to mumble something. It's always... an  _interesting_  sight to see."

She glances at the bunk, seeing that Jack and Anne were gone. Looking at his face again, she narrows her eyes at him.

"Wise choice of words. If you ever use the word ' _adorable_ ' with me again, I just might take Anne up on her offer... It involves a knife and a certain painful,  _permanent_  contraceptive method."

He catches the meaning, a brief chuckle leaving his lips as he shakes his head.

Then Eleanor's smirk falters. And of course, he notices that there's something on her mind.

"I had the strangest dream." She begins, before Charles could even ask what was wrong. "Flint was calling my name, saying he needed to talk to me, but there was only darkness."

He gets to his feet and she sits up in the hammock, watching as he went through their bags to get some fresh clothes.

"Must be one of your premonitions."

"Maybe... Or maybe I'm just worried. It's been over a month without any news from home. I feel as if I'm going insane. I can't even read Utley's reports anymore, to know whether everything is okay at the tavern or not. And I'm concerned about Scott. He must be worried sick about me, this can't be good for his health."

She catches the clothes he throws to her, then gets to her feet too. As they change in silence, she knows there's something on his mind.

When they're ready and about to leave the tent, Charles stops her.

"Maybe we could talk to Shih, check if there's anywhere we can go to get phone signal? I know this is taking a toll on you."

A smile tugs at her lips. Bringing her arms around his neck, she presses her lips to his in a brief kiss.

There's a barely perceptible glint of hope in her eyes when she pulls away.

* * *

**Nassau, Bahamas**

**10 P.M.**

Things are slow tonight.

There's a heavy storm falling outside, so the few customers they have right now are people who came into the tavern to seek refuge.

He's standing by one of the windows in the office, the  _empty_  office.

_Far too empty for his liking._

Looking away from the beach and the rain, he closes the window. This is the very same spot where she had been standing that night, centuries ago.

When he turns around, he almost expects to see her in those burgundy clothes.

His little girl looked so beautiful in them.

"Dad?"

The corners of his lips twitch up in a weak smile as his biological daughter opens the heavy double doors.

She knows exactly what's haunting him.

"She's okay. She's with Vane, remember? He always keeps her safe." She walks over to him, reaching to squeeze his shoulder in a reassuring manner. "Take your time. I can handle things on my own tonight, and Max is helping me. I just came here to check up on you."

He doesn't say a word while watching her retreating form.

Long gone is the time when he could hold both his princesses close while reading them bedtime stories, during those nights when Richard would let him bring Eleanor to his house.

It feels like just yesterday... she fit perfectly in his arms, he still remembers that small body he could lift up on his shoulders... Now she's a grown woman, somewhere out there, in this vast, crazy world... So far away from home.

_So far away from him and his fathering gaze._

Empty nest syndrome is a torture. And he used to think that such a thing didn't exist.

How  _very wrong_  he was.

* * *

**Bavarian Alps**

**04:00 A.M.**

She was sleeping so soundly, so comfortable under the soft blankets. But then something snatches her from her peaceful paradise abruptly.

Coming back from the land of dreams, Mary frowns. It takes her a couple of seconds to realize that her phone is ringing insistently on the bedside table.

With a groan, she reaches for it. The light from the screen makes her close her eyes for a moment.

Squinting at the still ringing device, she gives up on trying to make out what was written on the caller ID.

"Who is this?" She asks sleepily, her head hitting the pillow again as she closes her eyes.

_"Mary. Is she okay?"_

Her eyes snap open at that familiar voice. Suddenly fully awake, she sits up in bed.

"Where the hell are you, you  _idiot_? Do you have any idea how many times I tried to contact you?"

_"37. This week alone, that is. That's why I'm asking, did something happen to my sister?"_

"She's fine. But she's been asking about you nonstop. She even got  _sick_ , Charles."

"Mama?" Davina mumbles, starting to wake up by her side.

Somehow, Charles' ears pick up her voice.

_"Is she with you right now?"_

Reaching to stroke Davina's hair as the little girl rubbed her eyes, Mary sighs. "She had a nightmare earlier. So she's sleeping with me tonight."

_"Let me speak to her."_

His tone leaves no room for arguments.

"Mama, who're you talking to? Is it a monster?"

Making a serious face, Mary shrugs, not wanting to ruin the surprise.

"I don't know... He wants to talk to you..."

Davina hesitates before accepting the phone from her mother. Those big blue eyes remain locked with Mary's as she brings the device to her ear.

"Hello?"

* * *

**Shih Island**

**09:00 A.M.**

_"Hello?"_

His lips immediately curve into an unguarded smile.

He heard Mary's words just before his ex-lover handed the phone to Davina, and the child's voice holds a hint of fear. But it's obvious she's trying to hide it, she's doing her very best to sound brave. Despite her age and her size, she's trying to appear as tough as possible.

His heart melts like snow in the sun.

"Hello, my little pirate."

She gasps at the unmistakable sound of his voice.

_"It's not a monster, mama, it's Charlie!"_  He can't help but chuckle, waiting until her focus returned to him.  _"Charlie, you okay? Mama couldn't call you, why?"_

"We're on an Island near Thailand, kid. There's no phone signal most of the time. But today, we got lucky. And yes, I'm fine."

_"Thailand? Is it in Africa?"_

His smile widens at her innocence. "Close enough."

_"Is Eleanor okay?"_

He frowns at her apprehensive tone, glancing at the blonde as she spoke to Scott on her own phone, a few feet away.

When they went to see Madame Shih, she told them the members could sometimes get phone signal up on the cliff near the camps. Luckily, they did.

"She is. Kid, what was your nightmare about?"

_"You and Eleanor were climbing a tree, and there was a big crocodile under it, he wanted to eat you!"_

His confusion gives place to surprise and amazement.

Could it be just a coincidence?

Or is it possible that his little pirate princess has the same sixth sense as his queen?

"We're okay. There's nothing you need to worry about, alright?"

She stays silent for a moment. Then a smile comes to his lips as she cheers up, starting to tell him all about this last month.

At the edge of the cliff, Eleanor watches him while finishing her call with Scott, her heart filling with warmth. The way it always does whenever she sees him interacting with this precious angel in any way.

She knows Davina is the only one he wanted to call, but she has more people to consider.

Eleanor was surprised, to say the least, when she realized that the number of missed calls from Flint actually exceeded the ones from Scott.

Maybe it  _was_  a premonition, after all. Maybe he  _has_  something important to say to her.

And when she dials his number, he doesn't take more than a second to answer the call.

_"Are you safe?"_  Is the first thing he asks.

He's trying hard to sound as uninterested as possible, but she knows him.

She detects the concern in his voice.

"Perfectly safe. For now, at least. Only today we were able to get phone signal. Is there something I should know?"

_"I saw a certain someone today."_

His tone is somewhat aggressive and she scowls, trying to think of an answer and only coming up with one possibility.

"My father?"

_"Your ex-husband."_

She stiffens, feeling as if cold water had been injected in her veins.

"That's impossible. He's not in LA, he's... searching the seven seas for me."

_"Not anymore, he's not... At least not in person."_

She barely notices that Charles is now playing attention to her too, while also talking to Davina.

He's so good at this. So good at protecting this girl from the harsh reality so she can finally have the happy childhood she deserves.

_And he still has the audacity of thinking he would be a shitty father._

Shaking her head, she instinctively looks at the ocean. "What do you think he's doing in there?"

_"He seems to be giving his kid some attention... Or trying to, and failing miserably."_

"Where exactly did you see him?"

She listens as he tells her everything, and her mood improves a little as she hears about Abigail's emancipation. And her eyes widen when he tells her about who helped them.

"Flint found Miranda!" She says to Charles, just as he interrupts his own conversation to say "my sister lost another tooth".

A smile tugs at her lips.

When he mentions Gates, and when she finds out that not only his memories are back, but he's also at peace with her father figure, she can't help but close her eyes.

It's during these moments that she feels the urge to thank the universe for all the small, beautiful blessings they receive sometimes.

Half an hour later, when she's sitting near the edge of the cliff beside her pirate and telling him the news, he reaches for her hand.

His eyes are glued to the bay, and he has a soft scowl on his face.

"Why do you think he stopped searching?"

"I don't think he did. He must have changed tactics, that's all." She says, laying her head on his shoulder with a soft sigh.

Her brain is already coming up with a hundred possibilities about Woodes' sudden change, but... Just to think of all the people who will be waiting for them when they finally go home...

In this moment, she couldn't worry or care less about her ex-husband.

He seems so small and  _pitiful_ , compared to all the love and the growing family waiting for her back home. Back where they all belong.

All those people who care about her. And she finally knows that  _they_  are what truly matter.

_They're not just sand._

She loves them, and they  _can_  love her back.

She knows that Woodes shouldn't be underestimated. She knows this sudden silence means trouble.

But for now, she won't let that bastard ruin her happy mood.

Locking her fingers with Charles' she watches the ocean, the horizon.

Her thoughts fly away, far away, to all her loved ones. She can't believe how fate has decided to grace her this time. Max's words echo in her mind.

_"Your good fortune is not unwarranted. Your actions this time, they have brought you all these blessings."_

Maybe her former lover is right.

A soft smile plays on her lips.

_God, she can't wait to go home... to her **family.**_


	44. What Mermaids Do

_**Phuket** _

_**3 years ago** _

_The only thing he's aware of is the taste of vomit in his mouth as he drops to his knees on the beach._

_His right eye is swollen shut, black, and he has bruises all over his face, his body. He's a mess, and he probably won't survive this night._

_It's not like he wants to, anyway._

_After spending the last year searching the world and not finding what he was looking for, or rather, **who**  he was looking for, it's as if his life has no purpose. Not anymore._

_How he hates himself, and the choices his stupid younger self made._

_Something rises in his throat, he coughs before his hands go to the sand, and he trembles while vomiting violently again. There's nothing left in his stomach by now, but his body is still protesting. He's spent the entirety of the last two days drinking heavily, smoking and getting into fights._

_What would his long gone father think? Hell, he'd probably be proud._

_"Kournikov!" He barely acknowledges the distant voice, only mustering the strength to look up as three younger, Korean men come to a stop in front of him._

_They all have mocking grins on their faces, but he can't bring himself to care. He can't even **see**  properly._

_Everything is blurry, his world is blurry, his life-_

_"What a sad sight this is." The leader says, staring down at him in pure contempt. "How come such a poor bastard like you... managed to steal from the greatest drug dealer around?"_

_He's unable to focus, to keep even his good eye open for more than a few seconds. Everything is spinning, and he can't feel any pain when the younger man walks around him and kicks his back hard, sending him face first to the sand._

_They search his bag then, easily finding the money and the package containing 30 grams of pure cocaine._

_"Where's the rest, Kournikov? The other 20 grams, where is it?"_

_He can't even breathe properly, let alone speak. And he's about to vomit again, coughing over and over._

_But nothing comes out._

_Grimacing, the Korean clenches his jaw. "Fuck this. Put him out of his misery already."_

_As the leader walks away, one of the younger men pulls out a gun. The moonlight catches on it and he closes his eyes._

_This is it._

_And he will welcome death with open arms._

_He hears the gun cocking, but the bullet never comes._

_"Madame Shih."_

_Opening his good eye again, he uses all his strength to lift his head from the sand. The Korean who had been mocking him a few seconds ago was now frozen in place, his two companions moving to his side, with their heads lowered in respect._

_Only their leader keeps his chin raised, but his body language is passive._

_Faintly, he realizes that the man is looking at something behind him._

_Or is it someone?_

_"This one belongs to me, Ji Sung."_

_Yes, it's a person. A woman, with a velvety voice._

_He had never heard a voice that held so much authority before._

_"Madame, he stole."_

_"And I see you have already recovered what he took, correct?"_

_The Korean actually stutters when he speaks again._

_"Madame Shih... You know how things work with Daeshim. The thief has to die, and we are to cut off his hands and take-"_

_"You are not to do anything." Her voice makes the three of them flinch. "Or will I be forced to terminate business with you and your master? Challenge me, and you won't receive another gram of cannabis from the Island."_

_There's nothing but silence, and then the three Koreans turn around, rushing away from the beach._

_"Virgil, if you please." Her voice sounds more distant now, and next thing he knows, there's a man grabbing his arms and pulling him back to his feet._

_When he turns around with some difficulty, he sees one of the most beautiful women he's ever laid eyes on._

_Even though his vision is still blurry, he can see her regal face. She's thin, tall, probably Chinese._

_And she looks like she's the queen of the **whole**  fucking world._

_"You're a mess, aren't you." She states, walking closer until she's right in front of him. "What is your name, dear?"_

_He can't find his voice._

_Will he ever be able to speak again?_

_Is he even still alive? Maybe he was actually shot, and this is the afterlife._

_He sees as those delicate, yet imposing features contort into a grimace briefly._ _And then she's nodding at the man still supporting him._

_He wouldn't be able to stand on his own feet, if it wasn't for this guy._

_"Let's get him to the boat now."_

_They begin to move, the man practically having to drag him along, and he suddenly tries to fight._

_But when the Asian stops and turns around to face him again, it's as if she's controlling him with her mind._

_She emanates power, and this **has**  to be an hallucination._

_Her cold fingers touch his bruised face, almost tenderly._

_"You need to come with us." Is her simple statement, and all he wants is to get some answers._

_Using the last ounce of his strength, he manages to mutter out a "why", but it's so pitiful, she probably didn't even hear it._

_The man is still dragging him along and the Chinese woman is walking a few steps ahead of them. She doesn't even glance at him over her shoulder._

_"You will know, in due time."_

_His eyes fall closed after she says those words._

* * *

**Shih Island**

**Present Days**

Working on scaling the fish, Charles takes a quick glance at the Russian sitting on the sand across from him.

That knife in the man's hand catches his eye again. It seems like a very good weapon, sharp, and he sees the name Kournikov engraved on the blade.

_Vasyl's surname._

His eyes drop back to the task at hand, and once he's done removing the scales, he cuts the fish open. The mess and the smell don't bother him in the slightest as he reaches in and pulls out the entrails, then cuts the dead creature's head off.

What bothers him is the fact that this will be their lunch  _and_  dinner today. This and fruit. Like every other day.

He needs some red meat, so fucking bad. When they're finally able to visit the mainland in 3 weeks, he and Anne will spend hours and hours at the first steakhouse they can find.

The mere thought of it makes his mouth water. He and his protégée were not born to live without real meat, definitely.

Just as Charles finishes gutting another fish, he looks over at the sea. The corners of his lips twitch up, eyes softening.

Her smile is perfectly visible, even though she's not close to him. She's standing on the shore, the waves reaching her bare feet. The bodyguard is teaching her how to find the tiny sea slaters that run on the sand whenever a wave comes.

They look like little sea cockroaches. It's a miracle she's not disgusted, he knows she's not a big fan of those creatures.

But she keeps smiling as Virgil shows her a handful of wet sand, and she stalls for a brief moment before bringing her fingers to it, poking around and finding two or three sea slaters.

Taking the creatures into her own hand, she watches as they crawl over her palm.

The bodyguard says something to her, and then she's bending down to release the sea slaters just as another wave comes. It covers her hands, and Charles appreciates the view. Then she raises back to her normal stature, and his jaw clenches involuntarily when he notices the way Virgil's eyes move over her body briefly.

He supposes he can't really blame the poor man.

He was used to seeing his former boss all covered up in the past, and now she's standing by his side in a bikini. And her body...

_Screw it._

Charles is confident in himself, and he trusts her 100% when it comes to this. She's not the cheating type. She loves  _him_. She will be lying in  _his_  arms, when the night comes.

So Virgil can look as much as he wants.

When Eleanor stretches, raising her hands towards the sky, the sarong wrapped around her waist moves with the soft breeze, and he catches a glimpse of her perfect thighs. His mouth waters again, but for a completely different reason this time.

His eyes move from her legs to her flat, narrow stomach, then to the creamy white breasts, partially covered by the bikini top. She's such a fucking tease, even when she's completely clueless about what she's doing to him...

_She'll pay for this._

_The things he will do to her when their new tent is finally complete-_

Sharp pain brings him back to reality and he looks away from his beautiful siren, his eyes returning to his hands as he curses under his breath.

As result of his distraction, there's now a cut on his palm.

"Here." Vasyl says, and he throws him a hostile look when the older man offers him a piece of fabric.

But then he sighs heavily, accepting the cloth and wrapping it around his hand to stop the bleeding.

"You should clean it soon. Wouldn't want it to become infected, would you?"

He doesn't answer, going back to cleaning the fishes as if nothing had happened. After everything Charles has been through, this pain is nothing.

"You got distracted by your lady, right? I don't blame you, you're obviously very much in love. What's your story together? I assume it must be a long one... I see the way you two communicate without words all the time."

Again, he ignores the older man.

_This **asshole**  just can't take a hint, can he?_

"Surely such a bond isn't born out of nowhere."

His jaw clenches hard. Every single time this man speaks to him, his fingers  _itch_  to close around his neck.

"It's none of your business." He practically barks out the words, and Vasyl stays silent after that.

But his peace doesn't last.

"I once looked at a woman the very same way."

For some reason, Charles' eyes soften at those words. And before he can catch himself, the question is tumbling from his lips.

"What happened to her?"

The Russian seems genuinely surprised by his sudden interest, but recovers quickly.

"I lost her. A long time ago. Because of my stupidity and my stubbornness."

His eyes return to Eleanor for a moment, and he thinks about the governor's own lack of good sense while watching her carefree smile as she talked to the bodyguard. Looking at Vasyl again, all the hostility comes back to his face.

"Serves you right, then."

To his surprise, the older man chuckles. "I suppose you're right. There's not a day that goes by, when I don't think of her. And every morning when I wake up, I regret my choices and my actions very deeply."

"Regret isn't enough."

"Indeed." Charles can feel his eyes on him while cutting another fish open. "This is why I tell you... Never turn your back on those you love. Even if it seems like it's the only way out, never betray someone you care about. No matter what."

He just has to scoff, shaking his head, the briefest sting of hatred rising in his chest as he takes yet another look at Eleanor.

_"Should have given this advice to someone else, a long time ago",_  he thinks, then gets the ill feelings under control.

He's getting better at doing that.

"But the two of you... This relationship of yours is unlike anything I've ever seen before. I hear your fights. The whole camp does, I think. I can hear the deep hatred you feel towards one another, it's clear as day in your voices, whenever you have a quarrel. And yet, soon after, you're back in each other's arms. I find it very curious."

"It's been like this for a long time."

_If only he knew..._

"And you don't feel like working things out? You don't want to put an end to those fight?"

"No." His tone is dismissive, almost bored, just like when he said that very same word to Max at the brothel, three centuries ago.

Vasyl studies his face for a while longer, and he tries to ignore the discomfort.

"I wish you could see the way you two behave when you're together."

Charles frowns at the words, just as they're cleaning the last two fishes.

"You're both intense. At all times. You... change when you're near her. It's almost as if she's a magnet and you're a piece of iron. Sometimes, the other way around. I just get the feeling you're connected to each other in such a way... Nothing could ever change what you feel for her, and what she feels for you, correct?"

_Jesus, are they **that** obvious?_

For some reason, he meets Vasyl's eyes, and his frown is automatic.

Those eyes... Those features, partially hidden by his greying beard.

_Who the **hell**  is this man he has in front of him?_

A barely perceptible nod is the only response the Russian earns, and the corners of his lips curve into a soft smile.

"What the fuck did you do this time?"

A bossy voice suddenly breaks their moment and they look up to see Eleanor with a stern look on her face.

Taking that as his cue, Vasyl gets to his feet.

"I'll clean the mess, and get the fishes to the campfire. Please take care of his wound, pearl."

Eleanor frowns as Vasyl walks away.

" _Pearl_?"

"I already hate his guts and he decides to come up with little nicknames. I'll tear his eyes out-"

"You  _won't_  lay a finger on him." She interrupts him, reaching for his left hand as he gets to his feet. "He's Shih's favorite and one of our only soldiers, remember that."

Her eyes inspect the cloth, and only then he notices the blood is starting to seep through. Maybe the cut was actually deeper than he first thought.

"How could you have been so careless with a knife? It's not like you."

He shrugs, and she glares at him in warning when he moves closer with that wicked half smirk she knows far too well.

"Not my fault if the view was so nice."

Eleanor knows he's not talking about the bright blue sea. Rolling her eyes, she grabs a hold of his arm before leading him all the way to Jack and Anne's tent.

"Sit." Her voice leaves no room for argument and he cant help but chuckle while settling in the hammock. His eyes follow her every move as she rummages through one of their bags, looking for her first-aid kit.

Her grimace when she carefully unwraps his hand and gets a look at the cut is so freaking adorable.

"Jesus. You're not in pain?"

"Had far worse."

Sighing heavily, she grabs the bottle of rubbing alcohol. "No arguments there."

He doesn't even flinch when she pours the alcohol on the wound, and she's well aware of his eyes on her as she works, cleaning the nasty gash carefully and thoroughly.

She's relieved to see that the bleeding stops quickly, and he growls in protest when she tries to wrap a fresh bandage around his hand.

Her eyes are filled with warning as she looks up at his face.

"There's no way in  _hell_  I am going to let you walk around with that wound exposed."

He glares daggers at her and she keeps his eyes bravely for a few seconds until he sighs heavily, knowing there's no chance that she'll back down.

"It comes off tomorrow."

"It comes off when that cut is healed and that's  _final_." She says with that bossy tone of hers, and before she can walk away to return the first aid kit to the bag, his arm is wrapping around her waist and he's pulling her down in the hammock.

She tries to fake a stern look, but all signs of irritation fade away when he captures her lips with his. Soon enough, the first aid kit drops to the dirt ground and her arms go around his neck as she moves to straddle his lap better.

Good hand and wounded hand move down her sides, then up again, his fingers flirting with the strings of her bikini top.

"If you knew what it does to me, seeing you dressed like that every fucking day, from dawn to dusk..." He trails off, that raspy voice sending shivers down her spine as he brings his lips to the column of her neck, nipping at the skin softly, then biting down hard without a warning.

Charles knows she loves that, and as always, he's rewarded with a breathy moan.

_He **lives**  for those sounds._

Goosebumps rise all over her arms and she kisses him again, hard.

They're almost forgetting about their lack of privacy when Jack comes in through the flap.

"Oh, good Lord-" He says, stopping in his tracks and closing his eyes with a grimace.

They stop immediately, and Eleanor makes sure her bikini top is still in place as Charles rolls his eyes.

"Hang a sign on the flap or  _something_ , for  _God's_  sake." Jack complains, his eyes filled with disgust as he walks out of the tent.

The mood is successfully ruined and Eleanor sighs before getting to her feet, grabbing the first aid kit to finally return it to the bag.

Just as the bell rings from outside, a signal that lunch was ready, Charles gets up from the hammock too. They share a quick look and when Eleanor pulls the flap open, she can't help but smirk at his mumbled words.

"So dead. He's  _so freaking_  dead."

* * *

**Los Angeles**

Staring up at the dark, stone ceiling, he brings one hand to his face.

His index finger and thumb make contact with the familiar material of the fake eye, and he unceremoniously plucks it out. Lifting it in the air, he clenches his jaw. His hatred and thirst for revenge against Vane and Eleanor have been put on hold for now.

He's not an idiot. He knows something must have made Rogers change his mind, he must have decided to stay in LA.

His former boss was probably worried he would do something stupid, so he got Mason to pull some strings. These two assholes set him up, and now he's stuck in prison again, all because of  _them_.

That poor bastard in a business suit has no idea who he messed with.

A smirk tugs at his lips, excitement spreading through his system. He already has a plan for revenge.

Ned knows what made that idiot want to stay, he knows there's only one possibility. And damn it, he's going to put Rogers through hell. His punishment for that betrayal will be far worse and more painful than death itself.

That bastard has no idea what's coming his way.

He'll hurt those he holds dear.

He's going to take  _everything_  from him.

* * *

The soft rise and fall of the baby's chest puts a half smile on his face.

The chubby cheeks, those tiny fists resting on either sides of his head, his soft chestnut hair the exact same color as Sarah's.

He looks so delicate. Even more so, when he's asleep.

It's a nice change, being so close to him and not seeing that fear in his eyes.

Sighing briefly, Woodes carefully brings his fingers to the baby's face, stroking his hair, his left cheek. Such soft skin.

To his surprise and frustration, not even three seconds pass before Aiden scowls in his sleep, letting out a barely audible noise of complaint and turning his head to the other side.

_How is it possible that his son despises him, even when he's in the land of dreams?_

He's never seen anything like this before.

Clenching his jaw, he pulls the blanket over Aiden's small body, then steps away from the crib.

That's when his phone vibrates in his pocket. And his heart skips a beat.

He can't even blink while reading the report.

The Ranger was spotted.

_"...Ship made port in Cape Verde about 5 months ago, and a blonde woman, apparently in her early twenties was seen out and about on the Island, always with a tall, thin man with short dark hair by her side..."_

Rackham, of course. He was probably making sure she wouldn't try to flee.

His hand is shaking, and he reads the full report over and over again.

Stepping out of the nursery, he puts his phone back into his pocket. His brief laugh is automatic. For the first time since he woke up from the coma, Woodes feels as if he's actually alive.

It's the first time he has any solid news from  _her_ , after all this time of doubt and anguish...

His suspicions were right. That monster didn't stay in the Bahamas, Max lied to him.

Hope is filling his heart, and he can't bring himself to care.

Eleanor is still alive. He feels it in his bones. And no matter what his brother and Sarah say or think, he knows he's now one step closer to finding his wife and bringing her back home. So they can finally have the life of their dreams, the life they  _deserve_. Finally, after three centuries.

_He will make her happy again._

* * *

**Shih Island**

**4 days later**

Laughing in happiness, Eleanor takes a drink from her wooden mug.

They're celebrating tonight.

The new tent will be ready tomorrow, and while it's been strangely nice to spend their nights here with Jack and Anne, Eleanor can't wait to have some privacy again.

_With him._

It's been an interesting, funny and nerve-racking experience all at the same time, but she's ready to be alone with her pirate again.

"That's just what mermaids do." Charles says, after Jack asks what caused him to be so distracted, to the point of hurting his own hand. "They put a man under their spell, and when the poor bastard realizes it, it's too late."

"A mermaid, huh?" His best friend says with a raised eyebrow, reaching for the rum bottle on the dirt ground between them so he could refill his mug.

"She's missing the tail, but that's all. Because she  _definitely_  has the beauty and the voice."

Anne snorts, but there's a half smirk on her face. Jack shakes his head at him with a chuckle.

"And here I thought it was impossible that you became even more love-struck than you were in the past. This is pitiful, you know."

Unable to repress her bright smile, Eleanor meets her criminal's eyes and touches her shoulder to his as they sit on the ground. "What would your past life self think?"

"What would yours think?" He counter attacks, and she raises an eyebrow.

"I haven't changed one bit."

She's rewarded with the rare, beautiful sound of his laughter.

"I'm afraid you're lying to yourself, love."

She frowns at Jack, feigning a hurt look.

" _Et tu, Brute_?"

"' _Please don't leave me_ ', rings any bells? A certain night when you were emotionally  _and_  physically hurt, and I went to your rescue?"

She narrows her eyes at Charles after he says that, but the corners of her lips twitch up involuntarily.

Bringing one hand to his thigh, she leans in to whisper in his ear.

"Touché.  _For now_."

He can't stop himself from turning his head and stealing a quick kiss.

A sound of complaint comes from Anne, reminding them that they're not alone.

"Just be glad and grateful that you didn't walk in on the same scene I did, earlier today." Jack tells her, then sighs heavily while his leader lights a cigarette.

"Karma's a bitch."

Frowning at her lover's statement, Eleanor refills her mug too.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"These two had me traumatized a few years ago... One night when I walked into the main space of the hideout and looked at the couch. That image is burned into my brain."

"You were supposed to stay in Vegas for the whole weekend. Not our fault."

Watching their interactions, Eleanor can't stop herself from smiling.

These three are so interesting, the dynamic between them... She suddenly realizes she couldn't be happier about her little...  _Family_? That must be what they are by now, right?

They're a  _family_. Albeit a strange one.

It's weird, but in a very good way.

"It wasn't even the first time I caught the two of you, so you don't get to complain just yet. We have a score to settle." Charles says to his friend and she slaps his shoulder half-heartedly before stealing his cigarette.

"' _Please don't leave me_ '? Who would've ever guessed." Jack teases, and she rolls her eyes while blowing out the smoke.

"I was in a  _very_  fragile state. And high on painkillers."

He grins at her, and to her surprise, Anne is smiling at her too, when she looks at her. The redhead is quick to avert her eyes though.

Chuckling quietly to herself, she hands the cigarette back to its owner before resting her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes.

Despite everything... She's happy right now. She's learning to enjoy those stolen moments of peace and calm.

There's no way to tell what tomorrow will bring, so they better make the most of every single day.


	45. Her Own Decision

**Los Angeles**

After they lose sight of the lawyer and the Collie, Flint sighs while leading the way to the airport.

He can practically feel the teenage girl's excitement.

They're about to catch a plane, and doesn't know how to feel about this... About how he just parted ways with Miranda.

The thought did cross his mind... Trying to make her leave LA, to go back to the Bahamas... But he soon decided against it.

She has a life here.

A  _happy_  life. And she doesn't know him, at least this version of herself has no idea who he is.

She's okay, and he chose not to mess with that. She deserves to live in peace, finally.

But now that he's leaving her behind, he can feel it.

An unpleasant feeling is starting to stir in the pit of his stomach, and he's doing his very best to ignore it, to repress it.

For now, he's succeeding.

"Once we reach Nassau, what do you want to do? Do you want to stay there, or..."

He trails off, remembering what Miranda said. He's not supposed to clip Abigail's wings.

A barely perceptible blush comes to the girl's cheeks and she lowers her eyes before smiling at him.

He knows what's on her mind, and his jaw clenches briefly. Then he finally nods.

"Okay then. Let's be on our way."

* * *

**Shih Island**

Pulsing around his fingers, she buries her face in the crook of his neck to muffle her moan. Her hand stops moving only briefly and she recovers enough to bring him to his climax too just a few moments later.

He chooses to kiss her lips in order to stay silent.

Reaching to feel the warm fluid on her inner thighs, Eleanor allows herself to smile tenderly while stroking the nape of his neck. His hand seeks hers, and he locks their fingers together on his chest, their foreheads touching as they catch their breath...

Of course they had to  _enjoy_ their last night in Jack and Anne's tent-

"Fuckin' animals." A raspy voice they know far too well comes from the bunk, and Eleanor freezes.

Her wide eyes meet his, she's outraged to find him smirking.

"Bet it's not even the first time." Anne grumbles under her breath, and the blonde hides her face against Charles' shoulder.

Just as she's thinking the situation can't possibly get any worse...

"Guess we're even now." His tone is completely casual and relaxed, his fingers stroking her arm calmly, and she raises her head to glare daggers at him while Jack scoffs from the bunk.

At least it sounds as if he's only half awake, unlike Anne.

"Asshole." She says, at the exact same time as the redhead.

Charles only chuckles at them and closes his eyes, as if nothing had happened.

* * *

**Los Angeles**

By now, he already comprehends that once the big white door opens and closes, it means they will be in peace for a while.

Because it means the intruder is leaving. Only to come back when it starts to get dark again.

He just hopes he won't scream tonight. It scares him.

He really wants the intruder to go away, to leave them alone. He wants everything to go back to normal.

He  _hates_  the intruder.

"Ready for your bath, baby?"

Looking at mama, Aiden scowls at first. He can't understand most of the stuff they say, but he's starting to memorize words and associate them with the things mama does to him.

And he likes the bathtub upstairs, he likes water, so he smiles brightly and shrieks in approval.

She smiles too. He likes it when she smiles. He loves her.

The intruder tried to give him a bath once, and he screamed at the top of his lungs. He hates the monster.

He's bad. Aiden saw him hurting mama, back when he first arrived.

His gums hurt. It's been like this for some time. He feels as if there's something breaking through, and it makes him crazy, so he cries. The intruder gets angry, and mama says the word "teething".

Uncle Mason is angry too. Aiden sees him yelling at the intruder whenever the name Eleanor is mentioned.

Everyone has changed after his arrival. Uncle Mason is mad all the time. Mama is sad all the time, and so, he's sad too.

Can't Dada see he's not welcome here?

Mama says that word all the time, and he has already associated it to the intruder. It must be what he is, a Dada.

Dadas are bad, Aiden concludes. He doesn't want one.

All he needs is Mama. And milk. And mashed bananas, and bow-wows.

Dadas are scary.

* * *

**Shih Island**

They both step away from their handiwork at the same time, and Eleanor can't help but smile.

It looks way better than she expected, bigger than the previous tent, and surely way more resistant.

Logs, bamboo, rope, vines and canvas create a pretty decent shelter, and admiration shines in her eyes as she looks from it to the shirtless pirate beside her.

_It was all him._  She helped, but he did most of the work and if it wasn't for him, they would still be sleeping in that ruined tent, knowing they would get soaked in seconds if it started raining.

She had no idea he could do something like this.

And just as she opens her mouth to say something, he reaches for her, easily picking her up from the ground.

_Bridal style._

Her hands instinctively move to his shoulders, but then she remains frozen, staring in his eyes as he carries her through the piece of canvas that served as their door.

Before she can complain, he's stealing a quick kiss and setting her on her feet again.

_She can't believe him sometimes..._

Still amazed at the sudden, surprising gesture, she stands there, watching as he organized their bags, placing them near the foot of the bunk.

He has this stupid little smirk on his lips, when he finally meets her eyes again.

"What?"

"Where did  _that_  come from? Is this your way of telling me you changed your mind about marriage?"

His smirk widens, bright blue eyes shining with mirth as he closes the distance to her.

"Just wanted to chase away any memories from your nuptial night, all of a sudden."

"You don't even know if he did that, on our nuptial night."

Charles raises an eyebrow, keeping her eyes. Her arms are crossed and she stands her ground for a few seconds before sighing heavily and breaking eye contact.

It makes him chuckle in victory and she scoffs, walking past him to sit on the bunk.

"How romantic your prince charming was." His tone is teasing, but she detects the jealousy and the brief sadness too.

Eyes softening, she watches as he goes about sharpening one of his knives, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible.

Eleanor sees right through him.

Shrugging, she waits until he looks at her again.

"No, he wasn't. He never brought me any severed heads."

Satisfied to see the ghost of a smirk on his lips, she chuckles and stretches briefly. Building a shelter was exhausting.

"I've been meaning to ask..." He begins, and she watches as he puts the knife away before coming to sit on the bunk too.

"Is everything...  _regular_?"

She frowns in confusion and he sighs, reaching to brush her hair behind her ear.

"You know, your... cycles. Is everything normal? We've been here for more than a month already."

She just has to laugh.

"Now you're worried? You didn't seem so concerned about this, back when you kept pestering me about round twos."

He rolls his eyes, and she decides to stop giving him a hard time.

"Don't worry. I actually had a period two weeks ago, but you didn't even notice. I'm blessed, they never last for more than three days and I usually don't have cramps or mood swings, so I'm always able to hide them from everyone."

"Thought you we're supposed to bleed for seven days straight and turn into a soul-eating monster-"

His words are interrupted by a slap to his shoulder, and she shakes her head.

"Every woman is different. Some are luckier than others, and I'm grateful to be part of that group."

He reaches for her feet, pulling them up on his lap and starting to massage her ankles, seemingly in deep thought.

"So that means everything's regular again?"

She has to smile at his ignorance on the subject. It's strangely sweet.

"As long as it comes again in two weeks, yes."

"And it will also mean that there's no..." He trails off, unable to say the word. His eyes drop to her stomach for a fraction of a second.

"Exactly. We're being safe. Don't worry."

He nods, fingers still massaging her ankle as he moves to drop a kiss to her knee. He's not satisfied and doesn't stop there, his lips traveling higher and higher, leaving a trail of teasing, slow kisses in their wake.

One of her hands tangle in his hair, and her breath catches when he reaches her inner thigh, looking up at her with that lust-filled gaze that always makes her knees turn to jelly.

"How about we skip dinner to stay here celebrating our new shelter? We deserve it, after all that hard work."

He somehow manages to look like the dark, hot, dangerous pirate he is while at the same time giving her puppy eyes without even realizing it.

She couldn't possibly bring herself to say no.

_Not that she even wanted to._

And if everything's regular again, she's not supposed to be fertile right now, so what's the harm?

But that doesn't mean she will give up her rules.

"You know the deal. Better make the most of round one."

She's pulling him to her before he can even roll his eyes in annoyance.

* * *

**Bavarian Alps**

As soon as the heliport became visible, a huge smile broke out on her face.

Because she could also see  _them_.

Playing some game with a ball on the terrace nearby. She sees it when they stop, and Davina rushes to Billy's side. He brings a hand to her shoulder as they stare up at the helicopter.

She's just so  _happy_  to see them again.

They seem too surprised to move or react, even when Abigail rushes up the steps to the terrace.

And she barely registers Davina's squealed " _Abbie's back!_ ", her arms going around Billy's neck. At first he's too stunned to respond, but then he's letting go of the child to return the hug. For a moment, it feels as if the world has gone still.

She finally feels safe again. It feels  _right_  to be here, back in her friend's arms.

The feeling of that hard chest and those biceps through his jacket isn't exactly unwelcome either.

* * *

"He's just scary and meanie when you're not his friend. He was yelling at uncle Jack and aunt Anne after bringing me back to mama, and I was scared of him. But then he taught me how to do this, look!"

Abigail watches as the overly excited child grabs a coin from her pocket before rolling it across her knuckles like an expert.

She's genuinely impressed.

"Hey, that's a pretty cool trick sweetheart!"

"I know!" Davina laughs, putting the coin away and reaching for her cup of hot chocolate.

Somehow, the little girl knows she's terrified of Charles, and she's been trying really hard to make her change her mind.

So far, her efforts have been fruitless.

She's at the fireplace room with Davina and Billy, not failing to notice how he keeps looking in the direction of the kitchen. He seems really tense, and she wonders why.

She also wonders if it has anything to do with Flint's presence here.

Mary insisted that he stayed for dinner, and he promptly refused at first. But then Davina hugged his waist and begged him to stay. Not even that elusive, serious man was able to resist her puppy eyes.

So now he's helping Mary with the food, and there's this cold, dark look on Billy's face.

_It's strange to see him like this_ , she muses, looking at his profile for a moment before focusing back on Davina as the girl kept going on and on about her big brother.

"He reads me bedtime stories, and he lets me have ice cream before lunch, but shh, don't tell my mum! And he taught me how to steer the Ranger, and he said it wasn't my fault that Victoria died and my papa left. I thought it was, but then he changed my mind."

Her eyes soften and she smiles weakly, reaching to stroke Davina's dark hair while Mary called out to let them know dinner was ready.

_God, the things this little girl went through..._

It's a miracle the world didn't break her. She must have such a strong mind. Too strong for her age.

_**She** is too strong for her age_, Abigail thinks, smiling as Davina grabbed her hand and led her to the dining room.

"It was a huge surprise to see you. I was sure you'd just vanish, young lady." Mary says a few minutes later, when they're eating, and Abigail smiles at her. It seems she's finally starting to like her and be more receptive. "Why did you come back, anyway?"

She opens her mouth to answer, but nothing comes out at first. She's quick to come up with an answer.

"I just love this place. And I missed it."

This wicked half smirk plays on Mary's lips, and she nods. "I know  _exactly_  what you missed."

Abigail tries to ignore those words, pretending she didn't even hear them.

"Anyway, I'm glad the emancipation was successful."

"What's that, mama?" Davina's question saves her, and Mary looks from her to the child.

"It means Abbie doesn't need to obey any parents anymore, sweetheart."

Those big blue eyes widen, and she immediately turns to Flint. "Can I get one too?  _Please_?"

He can't keep the corners of his lips from twitching up at her innocence and sass.

"Not a chance. By the way, about Eleanor's sick stalker... Where is he now? Is he still searching the Bahamas?"

"No. He's back in LA, we saw him. Eleanor thinks he's changed tactics."

Mary thinks about Flint's words for a moment, looking at her cousin and finding him with his eyes lowered.

"That should mean it's safe, right? When they leave that island and we all go back to Nassau... He won't be there to hurt Davina again."

"I suppose. We should do well to keep our guard up until he's... taken care of, though."

"' _We_ '?"

It's the first time Billy has spoken since the moment they sat down to eat, and they all look at him as silence reigns for a moment. The girls don't see the way Flint's eyes narrow in a brief warning.

"I'm willing to protect the child." Is all he says, and Mary frowns at her cousin's hostility when the younger man scoffs.

"What's in it for you?"

The atmosphere has become strangely heavy all of a sudden and Davina is the only one who doesn't notice it, focusing on attacking her steak instead.

"Her well being is simply in my best interests. You do realize that once we're all home, she will be spending most of her time with one of the only people in this world who matter to me. She is linked to her brother, that makes her linked to Eleanor as well. Which makes her linked to me."

"You're basically saying we will be one big, happy family."

Mary simply can't understand why her cousin is acting like this. His posture is stiff, his eyes filled with hostility.

He barely knows this man, for fuck's sake.

"I suppose that's one way of seeing things."

Scoffing at that familiar, sarcastic tone, Billy gets to his feet. As he storms over to one of the doors that led to the terrace, they can hear him mumbling something under his breath.

"Families require  _loyalty_."

There's nothing but silence then, and Abigail meets Mary's eyes for a second before excusing herself and leaving the table.

The two adults watch her until she walks out the door too and Davina soon gets their attention, innocently unaware of the heavy atmosphere.

"Can we have cake for dessert, mama?"

* * *

He doesn't look over his shoulder when she closes the door behind her, but she's not discouraged.

"I feel like such a whiny child." Wrapping her arms around herself due to the chilly night air, Abigail walks to stand by his side at the railing. He doesn't meet her eyes, but a scowl comes to his face.

"What do you mean?"

"Davina." Resting her elbows on the railing, just like him, she sighs. "She's been through so much... And she never complains. But me? I had a safe life. And yet, I have always felt sorry for myself."

Billy seems to consider her words for a few moments, then he shakes his head and lowers his eyes.

"Your pain is not invalid, Abigail."

Hearing her name on his tongue still makes her feel all warm and giddy... The feelings are only intensified when those blue eyes finally meet hers.

"You were safe. But you were also lonely and depressed."

Nodding in agreement, she moves just an inch closer. It was as if she had no control over her own body.

"All I had was Eleanor and Miranda."

Something changes in his features, his brows furrowing together.

"Miranda?"

"The lawyer who helped us." She explains and he glances at the nearest window, catching a glimpse of Flint and Davina.

"I see..." Forcing a weak smile, he looks her in the eyes again. "Don't tell yourself your suffering is pointless. Invalid. Don't let anyone tell you you're weak either. Because when the pain came,  _you_  were the only one who felt it."

His words touch her very deep, for some reason, and she nods after a few seconds. He does too, then takes a look around.

"Honestly now... Why come back here? You could have gone anywhere, so many possibilities... And you came back."

_That tricky question again..._

"Because it's the only place that called to me."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I wanted to be near Davina and you."

Her cheeks burn when she realizes she said those two last words out loud, and she looks away from his face. She can feel his eyes on her, but thankfully, he doesn't press the matter any further.

When he finally speaks again, she lets out the breath she had been holding.

"There could be danger ahead... And if you stay with us, I need you to know that there are risks. Mary and I don't have a clean past. We could get in trouble with the law one day. Even Davina... I'm not sure if you know, but she's not legally ours. We don't have a birth certificate. She has no ID. We never adopted her. Mary didn't want to put her through the whole process, and her chances of winning the case would have been non existent because she was a criminal. We don't have legal custody of her. And that might come bite us in the ass one day, so if you stay with us... You will always be at risk." He looks at the heliport, hesitating for a couple of seconds. "I can say that... Maybe it would be in your best interest to get on that helicopter with Flint and leave this place. There are people in Nassau who could help you get settled and take care of you until Eleanor goes back there-"

"I don't want that." Abigail interrupts his speech, shaking her head. "I don't want people taking care of me anymore. I'm an adult in the eyes of the law now... I think it's time I start acting like one."

Staring at her face in silence, he can't even blink.

"I've always done what seemed safer... That got me nowhere."

She wants an adventure. She wants to live, finally.

_Who is he to deny her that?_

His slow nods lets her know he won't be questioning her decision anymore.

"It's good that you want to learn how to take care of yourself, and I highly encourage that. But if you allow me... I promise to protect you from any dangers that could be awaiting us. Okay?"

She smiles, and the sight makes the corners of his lips curve upwards too.

She has such a pretty smile.

"That sounds nice. Thank you."

Their little moment is broken when the door bursts open and a certain ball of energy joins them on the terrace, telling Abigail all about the slumber party they were going to have in a a couple of hours, to celebrate her return.

"I planned it myself, we can watch all of my DVDs and build a fort with pillows so cousin Billy can't find us, and did you see the necklace Eleanor gave me? It has a picture of me and Charlie..." She blabbers without even stopping for air, her voice fading as she dragged Abigail back inside.

Billy can't help but smile. But his amusement fades away as soon as a certain someone walks out on the terrace, watching the girls go for a moment before meeting his eyes.

"Take care of her."

He clenches his jaw hard, eyes filled with anger.

It only gets worse when Flint speaks again.

"I promised someone that I would come check up on her from times to times, and I will. If I ever find her in a less perfect state..."

"She'll be safe." He barks out the words, and the older man watches him for a moment before nodding his head.

"She better be."

As he goes down the steps, as he gets into that damn helicopter, Billy's fingers tighten on the wooden railing. He has to rush back inside, close and lock the door in order to control himself.

He wants blood so bad.

Davina's laughter fills his ears, and his eyes soften a bit.

One day... One day this girl won't be enough to calm his temper. He just knows it.

That thought makes him excited, eager and terrified, all at the same time.


	46. Lorenzo

**Shih Island**

**7:00 A.M.**

By now, she's already gotten used to the sounds of their new alarm clocks.

The birds, the tiny critters of the jungle, the monkeys that usually come to the campgrounds in the morning, searching for food.

The community waking up and coming to life outside.

Stretching lazily, Eleanor smiles. One of her hands settle on the heavy arm around her waist, and the sleeping pirate behind her pulls her even closer.

_If only they could stay like this forever..._

Scratch that, she'd probably get too restless after the first 24 hours. But it's already a miracle that this stupid man manages to put those ridiculous, romantic thoughts in her head. Even if only for a few seconds.

Squeezing his wrist, she uses her left foot to kick his shin, and he grumbles something in protest. At least she managed to wake him up.

Sometimes she loathes the idea of disturbing his peace.  _Sometimes_. Today, she only feels deeply pleased with herself.

Only when his lips come to her bare shoulder, her smirk falters. The bastard is trying to keep her from leaving.

"We have chores." She reminds him. Not that he cares, of course.

But he soon lets her go anyway, actually getting to his feet before she could even sit up.

She's rendered speechless at the sudden sight of his naked body, but recovers as soon as he starts to rummage through  _her_  bag.

And just as she begins to protest, he finds what's he's looking for. Her words of complaint all die in her throat as he offers her the purple bikini set, complete with a sarong of the same color so her scars would be hidden.

She stares at the garments in his hand for a moment, then smiles up at him.

"Is there a reason why I'm wearing those today?"

He just shrugs, as if the answer was obvious. "It's Friday. You like wearing purple on Fridays."

Her eyebrows raise as she accepts the bikini and the sarong from him. "You noticed that?"

"Long time ago. I notice  _everything_ , Honeypot."

He kisses her lips, so briefly that she has no time to react.

Standing there, frozen, she watches as he pulls on a pair of bermuda shorts, not even bothering with underwear.

_Typical._

Once he leaves their shelter, not sparing her another glance, Eleanor can't help but chuckle. Her eyes drop to the garments he gave her, and she shakes her head. Butterflies fill her stomach.

He's still the only one who has the power to make her feel like a stupid teenager with a crush... But hell, she won't  _ever_  admit it out loud.

* * *

"Kid's okay?"

He glances at Anne when she asks the question, then focuses his attention back on the fishing net they were crafting together.

"She's alright. I'll try to get phone signal tonight, so I can speak to her again."

The redhead snorts, and he just knows she has that sarcastic little smirk on her lips, without even looking at her.

"Would've never guessed. The four of us living together.  _You_ , with a sister-"

"You have a sister." They both stop what they're doing, looking up at Vasyl as the Russian loomed in front of them and their work in progress. "Younger or older?"

Charles shares a look with Anne, and she tenses up just like him. She's careful and suspicious around Vasyl too.

If her mentor doesn't trust him, she doesn't either.

"Younger. Still a kid."

That unpleasant feeling in his gut is growing stronger and stronger, and he almost slashes the Russian's throat open when he speaks again. "How old? What's her name?"

For one moment, he feels  _really_  tempted to answer.

For one strange, brief moment, something's whispering in his ear, urging him to say Davina's name.

_Almost as if that would cause some truth to be revealed..._

" _Don't_  ask me about my sister. Don't even  _think_ about my sister."

His voice sounds utterly protective and lethal. Even Anne flinches by his side when those harsh words come out of his mouth all of a sudden.

Vasyl stands there, eyes locked with his, and he feels so damn close to attacking... If he did it now, they would stand a big chance. The older man doesn't have any weapons, Shih is nowhere to be seen...

Anne wouldn't waste any time, he's sure she'll spring into action too, as soon as he does. As always. And their minds are connected, she knows  _exactly_  what he's thinking, she's ready...

He's one second away from attacking, his heart beating wildly in his chest, familiar adrenaline flowing through his veins.

And then the Russian lowers his eyes and walks away.

Little by little, the two relax again.

"If he says another word about Davina, he's  _dead_."

Anne watches him as he goes back to working on the fishing net. He knows she doesn't understand his violent reaction...

But then again, neither does he.

* * *

**Bavarian Alps**

**10:00 A.M.**

Away from there, a large wooden door is unlocked. Sunlight fills the forgotten place for the first time in years, and Davina squeals in delight as she sees the dust-covered hay bales, the tack, the stalls.

"There was a horsey here?" Her excited voice brings a smile to Abigail's lips, and the teen nods while reaching to stroke her hair.

"Not just one. Lots of them. Maybe 10."

"Abbie, where are they?"

"They've been gone for a long time."

A sad glint comes to Davina's eyes, and she looks back at the stalls with a pout. "They died?"

Trying to resist the urge to squeeze those rosy cheeks, Abigail is quick to reassure her. "No, nothing like that, they're alright. They just... went to other homes, that's all."

All the joy returns to the child's face and she rushes inside the stables. As she explores each and every stall, sneezing once or twice due to the dust, Abigail moves a little bit closer to Billy so he could hear her hushed words.

"Before Eleanor was born, her father used to come here twice every month with his wife. She loved horses, so Richard had the stables built and filled with them. It was a birthday gift, if I'm not mistaken." Her eyes are glued to Davina, so she doesn't get to see the surprised look on Billy's face. "There were workers who lived here, he paid them to feed the horses during their absence, and always keep them in their best shape, all for Caroline's joy."

"Caroline?"

"His wife. They would ride together around here, and I can only imagine how happy they were."

Scowling, Billy crosses his arms over his chest. He's paying attention to their conversation, but also to the child trying to unlock one of the dusty stalls.

"What happened to her?"

"She died. Giving birth to Eleanor."

"How do you know all that, if it happened long before you were even born?"

Abigail smiles weakly, shaking her head. "Eleanor told me. She once found an old journal in one of her father's shelves, it was all there. There were even poems... Poems he wrote to Caroline."

"Thought that man was ice cold... I mean, from what I've always heard about him."

Abigail frowns softly, then nods at his words. "It's very curious. The Richard I know, he's... A monster, in fact. Cold and distant. Cruel. But it seems he wasn't always this way. Caroline's death was probably what destroyed him, what made him change. In a way... I feel bad for him."

"That doesn't justify his actions. I mean... Any normal man would cherish his newborn daughter, the baby would be everything he had left of his dead wife... And he pushed Eleanor away instead, right?"

"Unfortunately. I guess we'll never know what goes on inside that man's head. After Caroline died, he sold all the horses and locked those doors. Hid the key. But one day, after reading about the stables in his journal, Eleanor found it. It was in the attic. We would sneak away when we were younger, and come here to be away from our drunk fathers."

A somber look comes to her face as she thinks about it. How they used to come hide in here... The real problem wasn't enduring Richard and Peter.

_But their friends..._

All those times their fathers invited their friends to the chateau, all those nights filled with alcohol... An unpleasant shiver goes down her spine, and for a moment, Abigail can hear an echo of their loud laughter again.

_There was one man in particular. Eleanor always told her he was dangerous, and she didn't believe at first. After all, he was always kind to her, giving her chocolates and stuffed animals._

_But one night, she woke up really thirsty. Eleanor didn't let her go to the kitchen on her own, so she unlocked the door and walked those dark corridors with her. There was a huge snowstorm outside that night, it was so cold, and she was so scared._

_She hadn't seen her father in two days._

_Eleanor kept saying she would take care of her, because their fathers were too drunk to care. So the two girls, aged 7 and 14 at the time, kept to themselves, spending their hours reading and playing memory games, watching movies. They had no way to sneak out to the stables that time, all the snow outside kept them from doing so._

_Abigail still remembers it clearly, the whole chateau reeked of cigarette smoke and alcohol, and they avoided the dining hall at all costs. It was where their fathers and the other drunk men were._

_After Eleanor got her a glass of water at the kitchen and she quenched her thirst, they began their way back to their room._

_She still remembers it so clearly... How the older girl had suddenly squeezed her shoulder, picking up her pace and urging her to do the same._

_They were being followed._

_Mr. Underhill, the man who always gave her gifts, was stumbling after them in the dark. His breathing was heavy and back then, Abigail was too young to understand what he wanted with them. But she knew they had to run from him._

_Just as they were rushing up the stairs, she tripped and hurt her ankle. Mr. Underhill looked like a monster in her eyes, emerging from the shadows with a strange, disturbing look on his face. Eleanor tensed up but made no move to leave her side at the middle of the stairs. Instead, she seemed ready for a fight..._

_Then the Rogers patriarch showed up._

_She remembers how he made Mr. Underhill go away, then took a look at her injured ankle and carried her all the way back to the room. Along the way, he talked to Eleanor._

_"I will keep an eye on him until he leaves in the morning. But please, lock the door, child."_

_His voice was always gentle, and the greying hair gave him this comforting grandpa look._

_"Do you think my father will believe me, if I tell him about this?"_

_"Sadly, I doubt it. You're mature for your age, I believe you know that his partnership with that pig will speak louder."_

_Woods saw them to safety, and from that day on, Abigail never accepted any gifts from Underhill again._

_She also learned to never doubt a thing Eleanor said. Never again._

Today, she knows full well what that man wanted. They were so lucky that a guardian angel was put on their way back then.

_Life is so damn unfair_ , she thinks suddenly. That child molester is still very much alive, rich, enjoying his luxuries back in LA.

While the kind, selfless Rogers patriarch died from cancer, fours years after saving them that night.

"You okay?"

Billy's voice suddenly brings her back from her somber reverie, and she shakes her head.

"Sorry. Just got sucked into the past for a while."

He nods, not taking his eyes off her face. Somehow, he knows she was thinking about some difficult times. He must have seen the sad look in her eyes.

"Must have been tough."

"It was."

He offers her a gentle smile, and her heart flutters when he squeezes her hand reassuringly.

"Cousin Billy, can we have a horse? Pleaaase?"

He chuckles as Davina runs over to them, holding a leather halter in her hands. It's covered in dust, like everything else at the forgotten stables, so they should make sure she leaves it behind.

Mary would have a fit.

She senses Billy's brief turmoil. By now, Abigail knows that he can never say " _no_ " to this little girl. So she already knows what will come out of his mouth, even before he speaks.

"You'll have to talk to Mary about that, munchkin."

_Of course._

Ducking her head to hide her smile, Abigail watches as a pout comes to Davina's lips.

"But she will say no..." She whines.

_Bait dropped._

Billy stays silent for a few seconds.  _Thinking_.

"You know what could work? If you ask your brother for a horse..."

"...when we're all together again in the island!" Davina finishes for him, confirming Abigail's suspicions. She planned this all along.

_Again, what a sneaky little girl..._

"Charlie said he knows how to ride, he can teach me!" She says excitedly, walking past them to exit the stables. Billy grabs the dusty halter from her hands, setting it on a crate and meeting Abigail's eyes with a defeated look on his face.

It's one of the funniest things she's ever seen.

"I'm sure he can..."

"Mama can't say no if the horsey is already mine... This will work, cousin Billy! I know it will!" Davina rushes up the steps to the terrace, and the man rubs the back of his head while following her at a much slower pace, Abigail by his side.

"Mary's gonna cook my liver  _and_  my kidneys for dinner when she finds out."

He's rewarded with a laugh from the teen. It sounds like chiming bells and he can't stop himself from patting her shoulder affectionately, a stupid smile on his face.

* * *

**Nassau, Bahamas**

**06:00 P.M.**

Caroline keeps staring at the screen as the end credits of Moana roll, her fingers stroking Melissa's soft hair. The little girl is exhausted today, and ended up falling asleep with her head on her nanny's lap halfway through the movie.

Elijah dropped her off early today, since both him and his sister were called to work. They usually go after nightfall but for some reason, her daughter's tavern was extra full today.

Pride swells in her chest.

Business is going so well, the medium can't wait until Eleanor is back so she can see it all with her own eyes.

_Soon, they will need to hire another security man to cover the afternoon shift..._

Her focus travels back to Melissa as the child stirs, mumbling something in her sleep.

Their bond grew stronger than expected. Both Elijah and Olivia were impressed. According to them, one of the reasons why Olivia couldn't work back in LA was because they could never find a nanny Melissa liked.

She was always extremely shy, never making friends, as if her uncle and mommy were the only people she wanted to interact with.

That's why they were hesitant at first, thinking it wouldn't work... Like always. But then Melissa opened up to Caroline. In a matter of days, they were playing and getting along in such a natural way...

Smiling softly, she runs her fingers through that straight, shoulder length hair. It's safe to say she already loves this little girl. The twins have easily won a spot in her heart as well.

They're a good family, so she loves to work for them. Olivia is nice and dreamy, with the energy and the optimism of a 18 year old. But perfectly responsible and capable of raising her daughter.

_And Elijah..._

He's kind. He's tender with his girls, but he bravely defends Eleanor's tavern. He's able to go from tough, serious security man to loving uncle Elijah in a split second.

_And he's quite handsome too._

Even though she still feels somewhat linked to Richard, that man could actually make her change her mind one day...

The front door opens, bringing her out of her thoughts. A frown comes to her face when Flint goes straight to the kitchen, not sparing her the briefest of glances.

Grabbing a pillow, she replaces her lap with it carefully, gently, and Melissa doesn't wake up.

"Where were you?" She asks, crossing her arms while entering the kitchen.

Flint just stands there with his back to her. "Went to the tavern for a drink."

"Are you okay?"

There's silence. She expects him to give her some sarcastic answer, avoiding her question as always, but then...

"No."

She's too stunned to say anything, watching as he finally turned around to face her. The haunted, pained look in his eyes pierces her heart. He shakes his head.

" _No_ , Caroline, I'm not."

He sits at the table, and she slowly walks over to join him. His eyes are lowered to the wooden surface, his shoulder tense.

"I hide it so well. No one sees how damn  _torn_ I am on the inside. No one knows that every single day I wake up breathing is a fucking  _torture_."

His voice raises when he says that last word and Caroline flinches, looking over her shoulder in the direction of the living room. Flint understands what her concern is, and remains silent for a few seconds as they make sure Melissa didn't wake up.

His tone is quieter when he speaks again.

"I saw someone from the past, in LA... and she brought it all back to the surface. At first, I was happy to see her again, to know that she's safe and okay... But now, everything is coming back."

He rubs his forehead, and she knows he's about to say something that will bring him a lot of pain.

"I couldn't save him. It's all  _my_  fault, so much for learning my lesson."

Frowning, she leans forward slightly. "What do you mean?"

"When I found out he was in living in England, I waited. I waited for two weeks, to go there. You know why?" He lets out this depreciative, dry chuckle. "The Walrus had a huge, important trip ahead of her, and I wanted to be there, to supervise it myself. To make sure everything went well. Because of the money I would make. If I hadn't been so fucking selfish and ambitious, I wouldn't have lost him again."

She's surprised to see tears glinting in his eyes. But he's quick to get it under control.

_How he reminds her of her daughter..._

"I have no purpose. Watching over your daughter from afar was what kept me going for 23 years, but she's a grown woman now, and she has Vane. She doesn't need me. Scott just made me see that, while he was venting about his empty nest syndrome earlier." He pauses, locking his fingers together on the surface of the table. "That person from my past, she made me promise I would watch over Abigail. I grasped that task with both hands... What happens when that mission is over too?"

For the first time in forever, Caroline has no idea what to say, how to help. She brings one of her hands to rest over his, offering him a weak, gentle smile.

"Your pain will fade. Have faith."

Her words make him scoff, and a mumbled " _faith_ " leaves his lips. He sounds mocking.

She sees it clearly, his walls coming back up. So much like Eleanor, indeed...

"Go rest. Please. I don't want to end up being rude to you, because you're the last person in the world who deserves to be treated in such a way."

Knowing there was nothing else she could do for him at the moment, Caroline pats his hands and gets to her feet.

"If you need me..."

"I know."

She smiles, nodding at him from the door.

"Thank you for being honest with me."

"Go rest, Carol."

He doesn't meet her eyes as she stares at him for a few seconds longer. Then she walks back into the living room, heading to the couch and turning off the TV.

"Sweetheart? Let's get you to bed, or you'll end up with a sore back." She says softly, bringing her hands to Melissa's shoulders.

The little girl wakes up, rubbing her eyes and letting her nanny help her to her feet.

"Carol, can you read me a story? That one about the horsey." Melissa requests in a sleepy voice as they go up the stairs, and Caroline smiles down at her.

"Of course I can, little love."

She's forcing herself to look happy and calm for the girl's sake. But on the inside, she feels extremely conflicted.

Her housemate is depressed, and he was talking like a suicidal...

_What is she to do now?_

* * *

**Shih Island**

**4:00 A.M.**

_"Pick one, Charlie. And I'll try to see it from here."_

That sweet voice puts a smile on his face and he looks up at the starry sky, easily finding it.

His star, the one he told Eleanor about, at his uncle's cabin all those months ago. Patiently, he instructs his sister, waiting until she gasps in awe on the other side of the line.

_"I see it! It's so shiny! See, we're looking at the same star!"_

His heart fills with warmth. His innocent little pirate...

"Guess that brings us closer, right?"

_"Yeah, that's the point, silly! When are you going to come see me?"_

Sighing, he looks at the bay, at his ship. She's only visible tonight thanks to the full moon. "Soon as I can, kid. Promise."

_"I miss you, Charlie..."_

His heart clenches. How he wishes he could simply teleport to that chateau right now...

"Miss you too, kid."

His eyes go to the camp below, partially hidden by the trees. He left Eleanor's side after she was asleep, too eager for this sweet little voice.

He's spent the last three hours up here on the hill, trying to get phone signal, and just as he was about to give up, Davina finally answered the call.

His mood has improved wonderfully now. For some reason, after Vasyl asked about his sister, the urge to speak to her again and make sure she was alright hit him full force.

But as much as he's loving the conversation, he can hear the yawns she's trying hard to stifle.

"Now put the phone away and go to sleep. It's probably close to midnight over there,  _way_  past your bedtime."

He can practically see the pout of her lips.

_"But I don't want to sleep."_

"Davina Sierra."

She always knows he's being serious when he uses that name.

_"Okay... But you'll call again, right?"_

"I will."

_"And again?"_

"Positive."

_"And then again, and again, and again-"_

_**"Kid."** _

Her giggle lights up his whole world.

_His whole soul._

* * *

Davina Sierra.

_Davina..._

His jaw has dropped. He can't blink, he can't think about anything else.

_The sister._

The blue eyes, bright like the Caribbean sea.

The grown man standing on the edge of the cliff, bidding his sister goodnight and ending the call.

_**Don't ask me about my sister.** _

Hidden by the lush vegetation, Vasyl takes a step back. Then another, another, until his back hits a tree trunk.

His heart is going to come out of his chest at any moment, he's sure.

_Can it be?_

_It **has**  to be..._

Davina.

_**Davina.** _

* * *

_**Nassau, Bahamas** _

_**3 years ago** _

_This is it._

_He's leaving it all behind._

_This was a mistake, a disturbance in his path._

_He knows he's not doing the right thing. But it won't be the first time._

_Glancing at the house over his shoulder one last time, he shakes his head. Then resumes his walk._

_He just hopes Victoria won't be too stoned to take care of their girl._

_God, **what**  will become of these two?_

**_They're not your problem. Not anymore._ ** _,_ _A voice says in his head._

_His father's voice._

_He picks up his pace._

_His mind is made up. The only family he has is somewhere out there, he **knows**  his boy didn't die, he feels it in his bones._

_And he will find him, even if he has to turn this fucking world upside down._

_He will also stop living a lie. Of course, he still has to live, work and travel under a fake name, for his own safety._

_But he will stop lying to himself, stop ignoring his past._

_Walking alone on the beach, he looks up at the stars and makes the decision._

_He's not Lorenzo anymore._

_He's Vasyl again, at last._


	47. Part of the Family

**Shih Island**

**05:00 P.M.**

"His birthday is in two weeks. What are your plans?" Jack asks as they're getting some water from the well behind Shih's tent and she sighs, watching as Anne emerged from the jungle.

"I'm completely lost. What do you think he would like?"

"Try handcuffing yourself to the bunk, and wait for him naked with a gift bow wrapped around your neck. He'll love it." Anne says with a sarcastic glint in her eyes and Eleanor glares at her as she walks past them.

"Can't really say I disagree with her."

Rolling her eyes at Jack's words, she looks at his face again.

"I mean it. What can I get him?"

"Well, after you bought our beloved old girl... I don't think any gift will be better or even come close to  _that_."

He pulls at the rope, and she waits for the bucket with a dismayed look on her face. Neither of them sees the well-built Russian listening in on their conversation, hidden by Shih's tent.

"But I want it to be special. It will be the first time... In the past, he never said anything about his birthday. It's likely that he didn't even remember when it was. And I only realized that when you told me about the 12th of July, back in Phuket."

_Her pirate's birthday._

July the 12th. Exactly two weeks from now.

And she doesn't have a fucking  _clue_  how to celebrate it.

"When we go to the mainland in 10 days, maybe you can find something."

"You're like his brother, don't you know what he would like to receive?" She asks with a soft scowl, reaching for the bucket of water and setting it on the ground before grabbing the empty one and handing it to Jack so he could fill it too.

He shrugs, staying silent until they finish their task. Once both their buckets are full, he speaks.

"The two of us may have grown up together, and I do know him well... But when it comes to understanding him, to knowing what goes on inside his head, to deciphering his likes..." He trails off, looking away from her face. "There's someone else you should be talking to."

She follows his eyes, and sees Anne walking to the beach across the camp.

Jack smirks at her when she looks at him again with a raised eyebrow.

"Good luck."

He walks away with his bucket of water and she stands there for a few seconds before rolling her eyes and storming over to her and Charles' tent.

"Fresh water." Eleanor announces when she comes in through the flap of their shelter, and he watches as she sets the bucket on the ground.

He grabs his wooden mug and she settles on the bunk. Her eyes remain fixed on him while he gets some water.

"Is there anything you need?" The words tumble from her lips and she mentally kicks herself.

He could get suspicious, if she's not careful. But from what Jack said he often forgets his own birthday, so maybe she'll get away with this.

And she does.

"My ship. Cigarettes, alcohol, my sister, freedom..." He closes the distance to the bunk, bending down a little to press his lips to hers. "... _you_."

Her heart flutters, but she rolls her eyes. "I mean, is there something you want? We'll be allowed to visit the mainland soon, and I plan on doing some shopping with Jack."

He frowns, shaking his head and walking away.

"Have fun."

She's left alone in their shelter then. Letting out a huff of annoyance, Eleanor punches the mattress.

_Should have known._

_You're actually gonna have to talk to Anne,_  A voice says in her head, and she sighs heavily while staring at the dirt ground.

Damn it, how she wishes Max could be here to save her right now...

* * *

**Nassau, Bahamas**

**07:30 A.M.**

With a smile on her face, Caroline kisses the top of the little girl's head.

"Have a good morning at girl scouts' reunion, sweetheart."

Melissa beams at her nanny, grabbing her uncle's hand. "Thanks, Carol!"

"Thank you for watching her, Carol." Elijah says to the blonde woman, offering her a beautiful, sincere smile. Her own smile widens and she nods at him.

"Anytime. Rest well."

Stepping out the door on the veranda of the beach house, Caroline wraps her arms around herself, watching as they walked away and talked.

"Are we really going to the museum this afternoon, uncle Elijah?"

"Anything for you, princess."

Her heart feels warm.

Elijah is holding his niece's hand, the bright, pink unicorn backpack hanging from his free arm. He's not embarrassed in the slightest to carry Melissa's "girly" stuff around town.

She knows he's coming straight from the tavern, Friday nights are busy.

This is their schedule. From Monday to Thursday, when the tavern closes long before dawn arrives, the twins are able to go home early and rest. But Elijah still takes turns with his sister. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, he's the one to wake up in the morning, get Melissa fed and dressed, and he also drives her to school.

But the tavern stays open until six in the morning during the weekends, so Melissa comes stay with Caroline at the beach house, and Elijah is adamant about coming to pick her up every Saturday morning and walking with her to the girl scouts' reunion, so his sister can rest. Only then he goes home to finally get some sleep too.

He does  _so much_  for this little girl, and he does it all with a smile on his face.

Even after he's spent the whole night dealing with annoying drunks.

_What a man..._

Shaking her head and chuckling at her own thoughts, Caroline goes back inside and closes the door behind her.

Just as her housemate comes down the stairs with a sour look on his face.

"Feeling any better?"

Flint stops and meets her eyes briefly before shaking his head. "No."

She follows him into the kitchen, choosing her words carefully.

"I wanted to talk to you about something, but I'm afraid you could get angry and snap at me."

He scoffs while getting himself some coffee. "Caroline, I don't think  _anyone_  could ever snap at you. Not even me. Go on."

"You sounded like a suicidal last night." She begins, taking a few hesitant steps towards him. "We  _all_  need you. You're part of the family, remember?"

He doesn't look at her, and she scowls softly when he shakes his head.

"You  _matter_ , James. What about the institution you help, Travis has made it very clear... he's only able to keep all those kids safe thanks to your monthly donations. If it wasn't for you, they could be meeting the very same fate as Thomas in the streets right now. But they have a roof over their heads, food, shelter from the world. They're safe and loved  _thanks to you_."

He slowly turns around, mug of coffee in hand. But his eyes never meet hers.

Still, she watches him closely as he seems to think about something.

"I'm not going to kill myself. So if that's what you're worried about, rest assured." He finally speaks after almost a whole minute of silence. Taking a drink of his coffee, he looks at her face. "I'm not a quitter, Caroline. I don't give up on anything. That includes life."

His words bring her some relief, but all that anguish in his eyes is still tearing at her heart.

"I just wish you could be happy."

Flint scoffs in response to her words, heading to the sink to wash his mug.

"I'm afraid that's too much to hope for."

Even though she was already expecting such an answer, Caroline still lowers her eyes to the floor.

"I have moments. Moments when I am actually capable of smiling. When I feel something that  _resembles_  happiness." Turning off the faucet and placing the mug on the dish drainer, he stares off into space. His eyes suddenly look much softer. "When I held  _her_. All those years ago. She was just so small. I had no idea it would mean so much, I was just curious to see her again... But when I looked at her face..."

Tears burn in Caroline's eyes as she watches him. She knows exactly who he's talking about.

"When that tiny bundle was placed in my arms, when I saw those familiar,  _stubborn_  blue green eyes... I just loved her. She had never meant that much to me, in the past... I  _did_  care for her, I  _did_  mourn her death, in my own way, we  _had_  a bond. But seeing her again, as a defenseless, innocent little newborn... Something changed inside me, and I suddenly knew I would move mountains for her. Leaving her behind was a thousand times harder than I thought it would be."

"What did she look like? How... how much did she weigh, how many inches...?" Caroline closes the distance to him, one lone tear escaping. She sounds strangely eager. "I died before I could even hear her cry."

Flint considers her for a few moment, then sighs heavily.

"I talked to the nurses. She was 17 inches long. 5 pounds, 2 ounces. She was small, actually looked like a preemie." He pauses, lost in the memory for a few seconds. "And she was the  _most beautiful_  baby you can possibly imagine. I swear she had freckles already. I even counted them."

A choked sob leaves Caroline, but she's smiling.

"Her fingers. I was amazed by those little nails. So delicate and perfect, every detail. Her tiny lips. She had a lot of hair, despite her small size. The exact same color it is today. It felt softer than velvet."

Wiping away her tears, Caroline forces a chuckle. "She was born small in the past, too. I suppose it's because my hips are narrow, and I'm too slim. If she ever has a child, he or she will probably be very tiny at birth too."

Something changes in Flint's eyes when she says those words.

She could swear she just saw a glimmer of... Was that  _hope_?

"You think that's ever going to happen?"

This time, she laughs for real.

"One day. One day, I'm  _sure_. I feel this is in the cards for her and Charles. However..." She trails off, shaking her head. Her smile falls, and Flint scowls. "I also feel something... somber."

"Somber?"

"I have thought about their baby more times than I can possibly count. Even back when they were still trying to stay away from each other, when their memories were first returned. And every single time I think about this child, there's... Something. Something dark. I feel a lot of...  _pain_."

She sees it on his face. He's unable to fully comprehend her.

"Physical pain?"

"No, that's not what I mean. I feel... as if there's pain to come, whenever I think about this baby."

"You think something might happen to Eleanor?" His eyes are filled with partially veiled concern now, and she shrugs.

"I don't know... I really don't know."

He swallows hard, looking away from her. Maybe it was a mistake, putting yet another worry in his mind...

"Let's just hope you're wrong. We could use the joy this child would bring."

Nodding, she reaches to squeeze his shoulder gently. The gesture does nothing to soothe his heart, or hers.

"Let's hope."

* * *

**Shih Island**

**10:00 P.M.**

"You look so pale, dear." The Asian says when he comes into her tent unannounced. It usually pisses her off when someone dares to do that, but this time she sounds... Almost amused.

Vasyl has a feeling she already knows what's going on, but he starts talking anyway.

"Can't ignore it anymore. I've been listening to their conversations all day, they've been talking about Charles' birthday. The dates match... It  _can't_  be just a coincidence."

He walks closer to the small, low table in the middle of the tent. She looks up at him, her features unreadable.

"What about Charles?"

"It's... It's him. Right?"

Her frown makes him take a deep breath. She's managing to make him angry for the first time in three years.

"What are you saying?"

"Madame, no games now,  _please_."

She stares at his face blankly for what feels like an eternity. Then a sigh leaves her lips, and she's nodding her head. "Sit down, dear."

He obeys, sitting on the huge rug covering all of the dirt ground. The table separates them, and all signs of amusement fade away from Madame Shih's face.

"I have been keeping tabs on Charles for years."

"Why?"

"Personal reasons." Her voice holds a warning, and he decides not to question her any further. "He's your flesh and blood, indeed. Apologies for not letting you know sooner, but you had to find out on your own. Took you long enough."

She pours him some of her mysterious tea. All he knows is that it tastes sweet and it always makes him feel relaxed.

"What are your plans?"

"I looked for my son... for such a long time. And now that I stopped, he came to me. He's my son, Madame. I... he was nothing but this tiny unborn baby, developing in his mother's womb. I still remember her pregnant stomach, it was the only memory I've had of him for so long, and now I have him in front of me. An adult. So strong. He's the product of our love. My Naomi..." His voice comes dangerously close to breaking, and he pauses his speech to get his emotions under control. "Here he is. He's built a life for himself, he's a natural leader, he has found the purest love and such an amazing, unique young woman to have by his side, and I am so fucking  _proud_  of him."

She's never heard him speak like this. With such emotion.

"And are you going to talk to him?"

He sighs heavily, shaking his head. "I can't."

"Why is that?"

The Russian lowers his eyes.

"Because if I do that, he'll kill me."

Madame Shih's delicate, porcelain features are illuminated by the faint glow from her various paper lanterns when he meets her eyes again. His face is filled with guilt.

"He's found his sister. I have no idea what happened to Victoria, but if he knows her... Then he knows what I did. Hell, maybe Davina told him herself. And he obviously has a deep bond with his half-sister, judging by the phone call they shared on the hill. If he finds out I'm his father, if he finds out I left Davina, he'll be out for my blood." He frowns, rubbing his forehead. "There are so many unanswered questions. How did he find her? How does he even know she's his sister?"

Shih observes him in silence, watching as he goes through all those inner conflicts. She can only imagine how huge his headache is.

_Karma's catching up to him._

"I need to find out. And I will. I will find out if he knows what I did to him and his sister, if Davina has told him my fake name or my surname. I need to find out how much he knows, I need to hear it from his mouth."

"And how exactly do you plan on approaching him? From what I have observed, he becomes aggressive whenever you attempt any sort of contact."

"I plan on talking about the right subjects. So I can reach him. I guess you can say I will manipulate him... In a completely harmless way, but still."

Madame Shih laughs out loud at his words. He's momentarily stunned by the rare sound and sight.

"Мой дорогой*, there is only  _one_  person in this world who would be able to emotionally manipulate that man, and it's most definitely  _not_  you."

He's not discouraged by her words.

"I will bring his walls down, Madame. One at a time. No matter how long it takes, I will find out everything I need to know, and I will win his good graces."

"And what happens when he finds out who you are?"

Silence reigns in the tent, and for a brief moment she sees the tears glinting in Vasyl's eyes.

When he answers her question, he sounds utterly devastated and defeated.

"He  _won't_."

She's genuinely surprised.

"I would love to have the privilege of being his father. If only he could see me that way, eventually... But I don't have that right. I gave it up, the moment I walked away from Naomi 31 years ago."

Her eyes soften, her sarcastic smile vanishing with each word he says.

"I don't want to control him. To insist. I can not demand that he sees me as his father. I don't get to force him, I don't get to do anything. All I want is to talk to him... To get to  _know_  him. I want to spend some quality time with my boy, Madame. That's all."

She raises her eyebrows, then leans forward a little bit. It actually takes her a while to find the words to say.

"Know that I am...  _Very_  proud of you and the way you're thinking. Your sacrifice. Trying to force your ideals on him would be... a very big mistake."

"Adrik used to do that to me, and I felt the urge to push him away every time." He explains, and she nods in understanding.

"But you do realize... That he will eventually leave the island and be reunited with your daughter."

The Russian lets out a broken sigh. It's heartbreaking.

"I know. I know our time together is limited. From what Eleanor has told me, they will sail back to their home in Nassau after their business with us is complete. I assume Davina is still there. And of course, Charles will be seeing her often. So I will have no place in his life. If my daughter sees me, she will recognize my face and the truth will be revealed."

"So you plan on trying to approach him while you still can."

He nods weakly, his eyes filled with the deepest grief.

"How I wish I could go with him. To be there for him, finally... But it's impossible. I know I'm not  _part of the family_. So I will be grateful for the time we have, and I will make the most of it. If I can get him to be more receptive, if I can... build a friendship with my son after all those years... Even if it's brief, it will be a blessing already. Maybe... Maybe I will get the chance to do something, something that will make him like me. Make him see me with other eyes. He won't see me as his father, but if he accepts me as a friend... It will be enough for me, Madame. I will be satisfied."

"That will be no easy task, I must warn you."

He finishes his mug of tea, then sets it back on the low table.

"But I need to try nonetheless."

He gets to his feet and just as he's about exit the tent, Madame Shih's voice stops him.

"Be  _very_ careful, Vasyl. It's a dangerous game you are playing. That man... You do  _not_  want to anger him."

Turning around to face her, the Russian forces a smile.

"He's my son. It'll be fine. Everything is under control."

He's walking out of the tent then, and letting the flap fall closed behind him.

His feet take him all the way to the other side of the camp, to that different shelter close to the white sand.

The one his son built with his own bare hands.

He was so worried, thinking his boy could have died... And now he knows his son is actually sleeping peacefully inside this very tent...

On second thought, judging by the quiet groans and the breathy little moans that reach his ears when he gets too close to the tent, the couple in there is definitely  _not_ sleeping.

It sounds as if the girl is doing her best to stay silent, but she's not succeeding. Just another proof that he can be proud of the man his son has become, he can be proud in  _every_  possible way.

Things are clearly getting hotter with each passing second, so Vasyl ducks his head and walks away from the tent out of respect for their privacy.

Lost in thought, he makes his way to the little pier at the end of the beach, his eyes fixed to the motorboat.

The claustrophobic cabin where he spends most of his sleepless nights offers him some comfort, and he settles on the narrow bunk with a heavy sigh.

He needs to put his plans into motion as soon as possible.

God only knows how much time he still has with Charles.

* * *

_*Мой дорогой: My dear_

* * *

**Nassau, Bahamas**

**04:00 P.M.**

Love shines in his eyes as he watches his two girls, purposefully staying a few steps behind so he can see them at all times.

They're entranced by all the information around them, and their laughter when one of the "pirates" jumps out of the shadows to surprise them makes him chuckle.

He's once again rendered speechless by how damn perfect these two are. Their glossy hair, their delicate, doll-like features.

His twin could be a  _very_  successful model if she wanted to. Her good looks are complimented by her sense of fashion, as always.

She's wearing a navy military-style jacket, bootcut jeans and brown ankle boots. The leather satchel hanging from her left shoulder gives her that western feel, while the blue slouchy beanie keeps her young and cool.

And of course, she's also wearing the sapphire ring their mother gave her before passing away. He has one too, identical to hers. They both wear their rings at all times.

He's just so proud of her. So proud of  _them_. Elijah can hear his sister's voice as she reads some information to Melissa, something about one Charles Vane, and he thinks about Eleanor's lover because of that name.

But soon, his minds travels elsewhere.

Thinking about his boss makes him think about Caroline, and his smile widens.

She's one of the blessings they have received over the past few months. Decidedly, moving to Nassau was the best thing they ever did. With each passing week, his niece seems more alive. It's as if this sunny, beautiful island is healing their hearts. Their lives in LA were filled with pain, due to the loss of their parents, Olivia's husband and then, their dear Woods.

They needed this fresh start, and it has worked wonders.

He's still in awe, wondering how the hell Caroline managed to win a spot in Melissa's heart. It was unexpected, but entirely welcome.

That woman is amazing. Simply amazing.

They can always count on her, she's the sweetest creature he has ever met, and just so  _wise_. It's as if she's so much older than her actual age, and she has this light... This loving,  _beautiful_  atmosphere that makes you feel elated whenever you're around her. Almost as if she has some sort of mind power.

She's serene. She's gentle and she's helpful.

_She's gorgeous._

He  _has_  given it some thought...

His whole life, Elijah has always felt as if he's unable to fall in love. It's the strangest thing ever to him, he feels as if there's someone out there, someone he's supposed to find. Almost as if he already  _knows_  this person, but try as he might, he just can't remember her.

_The thought is absurd._

And that's why he tries to ignore this nagging feeling, he tries to overcome this blockage and find love like any other normal person.

When his former boss locked Eleanor up in the mansion, when he saw all the fire she had, that strong personality... He felt deeply attracted to her. It also felt as if he had actually seen her before, so for a while he was certain that she was the one.

But as soon as he went to Scott's house to deliver the news about her current situation, when that long haired man grabbed him by his neck, swearing to kill him if he refused to help them, he knew. He knew these two were together and deeply in love, and he was right. So he gave up on his plans to approach her, when all that mess was over and she was free again.

Caroline is so different from her feisty cousin. But still, she has won his admiration too.

Perhaps this could escalate and end up turning into something else, something... stronger?

He actually hopes so.

Coming back from his thoughts, Elijah realizes his two girls are turning a corner and disappearing from his sight.

He's about to follow them, but suddenly notices that his hand is now resting on top of one of the various plaques. He didn't even realize he was touching it, when did that happen?

His heart skips a beat when he looks down.

_Mary Read._

That name causes something to stir, deep inside him.

_Found you._

Squeezing his eyes shut for a brief second, he tries hard to come back to reality.

_My she wolf._

He reads some of the brief info on her, and for some reason there's the sting of tears in his eyes.

Where did those strange thoughts come from?

Elijah ends up forgetting about Olivia and Melissa. He spends the next two hours reading every tiny bit of information he could find on this Mary Read.

_She wolf... My she wolf._

* * *

**Shih Island, 7 days later**

**10:00 A.M.**

Another week has come and gone, and Eleanor has almost given up on the whole birthday gift idea more times than she can possibly count.

It's July the 5th already, and there have been no changes in her pirate's behavior, none at all. Maybe he hasn't even realized that his birthday is coming soon. Jack told her he never gave a fuck about it.

Because it always reminded him of how he was abandoned as a newborn. The date of his birth had been written on a piece of paper, along with his name, the night he was left at the orphanage doorstep.

Jack ended up finding said piece of paper in his friend's shelf one night when they were kids, and for the next few years he would try to celebrate the special date with Charles, never succeeding. So he eventually gave up.

And this is  _exactly_  why she's hesitating.

What if he does remember his birthday, but he's ignoring it on purpose? What if her attempts at making him happy only end up reopening old wounds?

She has to try anyway.

_Surely, one simple gift wouldn't hurt, would it?_

Taking a deep breath and raising her chin, she walks over to the tree log where Anne was sitting, using a strange, pointy rock to open a coconut.

"What do you think he wants?"

She asks promptly, and the redhead stops what she's doing to look up at her. Silence stretches for a while and Eleanor is about to elaborate further, but then the other woman finally speaks.

"It's not ' _what_ '. He doesn't need any stupid objects." Succeeding in opening the coconut, she takes a drink and the blonde sits down on another log right beside hers. "Try giving him something he can feel, instead."

" _Feel_." She repeats the word, frowning softly. There's only one possibility she can think of. "You mean sex?"

Anne snorts at that, shaking her head and rolling her eyes briefly. "Doesn't have to be  _just_  sex."

She's surprised, to say the least, when the redhead offers her the coconut.

"Meaningful experiences, some sort of special night. If you give him enjoyable times, something the two of you can do together, something that can bring you closer... It will mean one hell of a lot more to him. Much more than worthless, inanimate objects." At first Eleanor just stares at the coconut while the other woman speaks, but her throat feels dry so she hesitantly accepts it, bringing it up to her lips. "Maybe making up for something from the past? Something you did that hurt him... Soothe his heart. Sure you got plenty of mistakes to fix."

That she does. And in fact, an idea soon starts to form in her brain. Lowering the coconut, she meets Anne's eyes again.

"Just make him  _feel_ , cunt. Make him happy. Let your guard down and show him what he means to you."

The ghost of a smile comes to her lips. She nods, handing the coconut back to its owner and getting to her feet.

"You know, you... actually helped me a lot. Thank you."

"Next time you need advice about him, just get it over with instead of waitin' around for seven days like some scared little mouse."

She scowls, tilting her head to the side. Anne chuckles at her reaction. "I noticed since day one. You've been wanting to talk to me the whole week. It was pathetic."

Eleanor narrows her eyes at her, starting to turn around. But she's surprised again when the redhead continues to speak.

"You're insufferable but you ain't going anywhere, and me neither. So we're stuck together. If you want to make him happy... You have my full support, and you can come talk when you feel like it. I won't bite. 'Less you want me to."

Her eyebrows shoot up for a moment but then she notices the sarcastic, amused look in Anne's eyes. So she smirks at her too.

"Good."

She finally walks away and only then it fully hits her; how freaking unreal this situation is.

Are they  _bantering_  now? Her and  _Anne_?

_Is this real life?_

* * *

The last time his heart had felt so full was when he found Eleanor reading Davina to sleep at the safe house months ago.

Now the feeling is back, and Charles can't take his eyes off of the scene playing near the campfire.

His Red and his Queen. Talking and sharing a coconut.

Never in his wildest dreams he would have dared to hope for something like  _this_ , and now it's happening right before his very eyes.

The corners of his lips twitch up. When Eleanor gets to her feet, it looks as if they're  _bantering_.

How he wishes he could hear what they were saying from here.

When the unlikely, amazing show is over, he focuses back on his current task. He's cleaning fish with the Russian as they usually do every morning at this hour and strangely, he doesn't feel tense.

Vasyl has been unusually silent this week, and he's grateful for that. He's allowing himself to let his guard down now. And it's a surprise even for him when the older man finally speaks for the first time in seven days.

"My father's name was Adrik." Charles' eyes go to his face for only a split second, then he's looking at the fish in his hands again. "My mother left him, not even a week after I was born. He dumped me with a gang who owed him a favor, only coming back for me when I was 8. I have no clue how those street rats managed to raise me, to keep me alive, but they did."

He's stunned into silence. There's this small wave of sympathy for Vasyl reaching him, and it makes him frown.

And then he's speaking too.

"I'm well acquainted with shitty fathers. Hers-" He points at Eleanor as she harvests some fruit with one of the women near their tent. "-Is a worthless piece of garbage who's shut her out more times than I can count. He  _destroyed_  her to a point, that she ended up afraid of being loved."

"And you healed her."

Faintly, Charles realizes that this is the first time they ever  _talk_. Like normal people, without his deadly glares and all that aggressiveness he always put up whenever this man tried to say anything to him.

_Is it because he feels as if he can relate to Vasyl now?_

"It's a process. She's doing well. And I had help." Thinking of Max, he almost smiles.

But darkness fills his eyes when Richard's face comes to his mind.

"I want to kill that bastard with my own bare hands."

"What's kept you from doing that?"

"Let's just say I learned my lesson."

Vasyl seems confused by that, but he lets it go.

"And my own father..." Charles begins, failing to notice the way the Russian tenses up beside him. "Left me. My mother. My sister."

He meets Vasyl's eyes. For a moment, it looks as if he'll start asking a thousand questions. But before Charles can even think of cutting him off, he sighs.

"It's his own loss. He gave up the right to be a father to a great man. Wherever he is today, he probably regrets his decision so very deeply." The criminal keeps staring blankly at Vasyl as he goes back to cleaning the fish. "It serves him right."

There is this strange, melancholic edge to his voice.

Silence reigns then, and just as they're almost finished with their task, the Russian speaks again.

"Kids... They're the best thing a man can ever have in his life. Believe me, Charles."

Frowning, he glances around the camp in search of Eleanor, but she must have gone back inside their tent.

A question tumbles from his lips all of a sudden.

"You have any?"

Vasyl freezes for a moment, then he's nodding briefly.

"I do." Their eyes meet, and the older man forces a weak smile. It only gives him an even sadder look. "I do."

Charles feels  _very_  tempted to ask what happened to his kids.

He chooses not to.


	48. She Wolf

_**Los Angeles** _

_**15 years ago** _

_"Can we have a baby jaguar?"_

_Jack chokes on his breakfast, coughing a couple of times before looking at the 10 year old child sitting by his side at the table._

_"It's called a cub, and no, we most definitely **cannot**  have one."_

_Sitting across from them, Charles watches on in silence, doing his best to tolerate all those kids running around the room._

_"Why?" Anne asks with a sour look on her face, glancing down at the magazine next to her plate. She had been reading about wildlife and staring at a picture of two jaguar cubs._

_"Because they're wild animals, it's illegal and it would cost us a fortune. Not to mention, they do **not**  stay that little and adorable forever."_

_"Would be one hell of a mascot." Charles voices his opinion, receiving a warning glare from his best friend._

_"Anne is our mascot." Jack says, and the 10 year old seems ready to bite a chunk of flesh off his arm. "What would the two of you do when that cute little cub turned into a dangerous, full grown beast?"_

_"Personally feed you to it?" Charles suggests, and Anne promptly nods in agreement._

_Jack is not offended._

_"As if you'd be able to survive for a month, without me." He takes a look at the picture of the cubs, then shakes his head. "It's not a kitten, Anne. They become way larger than a domestic cat when they grow up."_

_"Like I said; one hell of a mascot."_

_If looks could kill, Jack would be murdering Charles for the second time this morning._

_"Why couldn't you ask for a puppy like any normal girl your age? You know, I could get one for you. Charles and I will be ready to leave this hellhole soon, and I'll get you out of here too so we can find somewhere to live, the three of us. We could have a puppy. We could definitely have a puppy."_

_Anne rolls her eyes at the 16 year old's words, going back to her food. They eat in silence for a while, and Jack ruffles her hair after a few minutes._

_"I'll get you a Chihuahua as soon as I can, alright?"_

_"Shove it up your ass-"_

_His eyes go wide and he covers her mouth before she can say anything else. If one of the staff members heard her talking like this, she could be punished._

_"Who taught you that sort of foul language?!" He asks through his teeth, completely horrified. It was the first time he ever heard her talk like that._

_His question is answered when his best friend chuckles briefly across the table._

_"That's my girl."_

_If looks could kill... Jack would now be murdering Charles for a **third**  time this morning._

* * *

**Shih Island, Present Days**

**09:00 A.M.**

Using a towel to help dry her hair, Eleanor crosses the camp, eyes fixed to their tent. She's coming back from her usual morning swim, at the spring hidden in the jungle near the campgrounds, and she's pissed.

They fought right before she left. For some reason, her stupid pirate didn't want her to leave camp on her own and of course, she didn't listen to him. That led to a heated argument, and she left for her swim anyway.

It's the only time of the day when she can be alone, without a whole community practically sharing the same space as her, so she cherishes her daily, stolen hour of peace and solitude in the spring.

And that's exactly what she was doing a few minutes ago.

Until she heard something and noticed a certain redhead watching her from one of the trees. Eleanor knew immediately that Charles had sent her, and her vision went red.

"I can't believe you had the  _nerve_ -" Any other words she might have thrown at him die in her throat as she enters the tent and takes a look at the criminal.

He's wearing shoes, which means he's about to go into the jungle. Deep into the jungle.

"Where are you off to?"

Her pirate sighs heavily, and she scowls when he grabs his spear.

"Charles?"

"I heard something last night."

His tone is serious, and it sends an unpleasant shiver down her spine. Eyes glued to him, she walks closer.

"There was something out there. And it wasn't one of the small, harmless creatures that venture into the campgrounds from times to times. That's why I left the bunk, why I stayed outside for a few minutes."

So that's why he sent Anne after her. He just wanted to protect her.

Now she feels stupid.

But she's still angry, for a different reason. Following him out the tent, she shakes her head with a scowl on her face.

"You told me you were just going for a quick swim! I went right back to sleep. There was a wild animal right outside at that time? It could have attacked you!"

"This is why hunting and eating red meat is forbidden. So the smell won't attract those animals to camp. But it seems one of them is curious about us." Madame Shih intercepts them, and Eleanor notices she has the Russian and Virgil with her. Glancing over her shoulder, she sees Anne approaching their group too.

The three men and the redhead all have spears with them and they're clearly dressed to venture into the jungle, she notices, as they walk towards the outskirts of camp.

"Remember, no killing. Unless your life is in danger and it's the only way to save yourself. Otherwise, no wild animal is to be harmed."

"We'll just scare it away, Madame. In case it's still around." Vasyl reassures her with a smile and Eleanor shakes her head, still mildly confused with the sudden revelation. Charles meets her eyes when she touches his arm, just as he's about to enter the jungle with the rest of the group.

"You don't even know what's out there."

"I'll come back to you as soon as I'm satisfied and sure that there's no threat around." He promises, and her heart feels heavy as he presses a quick kiss to her lips.

Standing there at the edge of the jungle, she watches the group of four disappear.

"He will be fine, child." Madame Shih says and she looks at the older woman, eyes filled with apprehension. "Virgil and Vasyl used to scared those beasts away all the time."

"What do you think it is?" Eleanor asks, glancing over her shoulder at the jungle as the Asian pulled her away from it.

"No one saw it clearly. It was dark. I suppose we will know, when Charles and the others return."

Sighing heavily, Eleanor walks at Madame Shih's side.

Trying not to be out of her mind with worry for her pirate.

* * *

_******* Warning: Domestic violence, injured baby ******* _

.

**Los Angeles**

**06:00 P.M.**

Big, curious blue eyes move over all those textures and shapes, and Aiden coos to himself while touching all of it. He loves bright colors, and the stimulation from all those buttons to press and toys to play with on the activity centre of his walker always has him in awe and joy.

He barely acknowledges the raised voices coming from the kitchen, the fight beginning to erupt. It still scares him, but he's getting used to it. To Dada's yells.

So he just focuses on pressing button after button, squealing in delight at the sounds and flashing lights he's rewarded with.

Until glass shatters loudly and he jumps in fright.

His feet are moving immediately, and with the walker's help, he soon reaches the kitchen.

There are shiny shards on the floor, and Dada is advancing towards Mama.

"I didn't- didn't mean it like that, Woodes, it's just-"

"' _Insanity; wasting mountains of money for a woman who doesn't give a damn, madness_ '." He quotes her words from a few seconds ago. Neither of them notices the baby's presence. "I am  _not_  going mental!"

"That's not I said, I just said... It's what it  _looks_  like-"

Sarah's words are cut off when he shoves her against the nearest wall hard, his arm going to her throat. She can't breathe.

Startled, and unable to comprehend what was going on, Aiden follows his first instinct. The one telling him to go to Mama, to help her.

As the front door opens, heart-wrenching baby cries fill the house. Woodes lets his ex-wife go just as his brother rushes inside the kitchen to see what the commotion was.

For a split second, the three adults just watch the baby in horror.

In his attempt to cross the kitchen, Aiden ended up stepping on two glass shards, innocently unaware of the danger they posed. He's yelling at the top of his lungs now, and Sarah's breath catches when Mason rushes to pick him up. One of the shards is still stuck to his little foot, and two heavy drops of blood fall when his uncle lifts him from the walker.

He's screaming bloody murder at the pain and kicking his feet back and forth, making it impossible for Mason to look at his injuries.

"For fuck's sake, you pair of  _morons_ , help me out here!" Mason barks at them, completely livid, and they finally spring into action.

"I told you he wasn't supposed to use a walker. This is  _your_  fault!" Woodes yells at his ex-wife, grabbing a strong hold of Aiden's right leg after a couple of failed attempts. Even though Sarah's hands are shaky, she's still able to hold her son when Mason transfers him to her arms.

"Perhaps if you had refrained from throwing that glass, there would have been no shards at all!" She bites back, angry like a lioness, and it surprises him. But his attention is focused on restraining Aiden's leg. His brother's jaw is clenched hard as he grabs a hold of that tiny foot.

"It didn't go too deep. Hold him tight now."

Aiden screams even louder when his uncle starts to pull the shard out. Tears roll nonstop, his face red, his whole body shaking. Sarah cries along with him.

Once the offending, bloody object is gone, Mason rushes to soak a dishcloth in water. Aiden is even coughing violently, trying to breathe and cry at the same time as his uncle comes back, proceeding to clean all the blood from his nephew's foot.

It just seems to keep flowing though. Defeated, Mason shakes his head, throwing the dishcloth to the ground and pulling out his phone to call an ambulance.

* * *

_8 months, 3 weeks old and **injured.**_

Not even a year old yet and his nephew is already being rushed to the E.R., he's more than likely going to need stitches too. All thanks to Woodes and Sarah's stupidity.

"Sometimes I come  _this_  close to taking that boy away from you, I  _swear_." He says, glaring at his younger brother in disapproval as the ambulance turned a corner and disappeared from their sight.

Luckily, Sarah lives really close to the hospital.

Rubbing his forehead with a heavy sigh, Woodes shakes his head. Sarah didn't let him go with them on the ambulance, no matter how hard he tried.

He's about to get in his car to follow them to the hospital, concerned about his son, when Mason grabs a hold of his shoulder.

"There's a reason why I came here. Low has requested to speak to you."

Yanking his shoulder free from his brother's grasp, the younger man scoffs. "He tried to call me from prison last Thursday. Tell him to keep his mouth shut-"

" _Woodes_. I think you should. He's been making threats. He'll probably try to call again tonight, I advise you to pick up."

"If I'm not busy with Aiden."

"I also advise you to go easy on your ex-wife. The last thing we need is Sarah reporting you for domestic violence." Mason tells him as he's getting in the driver's seat of the Range Rover. Those words actually tear a dry chuckle from his throat.

"As if she'd have the nerve."

"Brother, women these days. They have too many ideas in their heads, they want to challenge us as frequently as possible. Try and treat her better, for your son's sake, at least. You're scaring him."

"I plan on taking him from her, after I succeed in locating Eleanor. He won't even remember this stuff when he grows up."

Mason clenches his jaw, watching as his younger brother closed the car door and rolled down the window.

"He's just a baby, brother. He doesn't understand a thing yet. Even if I hurt Sarah right in front of him, he won't be able to comprehend it."

Their conversation is over, and Mason watches as Woodes drives away to the hospital.

Heaving a sigh, he shakes his head in disapproval.

"I wouldn't be too sure about that."

* * *

**Bavarian Alps**

**05:30 A.M.**

_Everything feels light and heavy at the same time._

_There's this pleasing, spicy scent surrounding her, and it's so familiar._

_The rest of the world feels distant, and her thoughts are all so blurry._

_"Rise and shine, she wolf."_

_At the back of her mind, Mary thinks she should be startled to hear a man's voice. She's supposed to be alone in bed, at the Guthrie Chateau._

_But she's simply so relaxed. And she knows that voice._

_So she smiles, stretching, knowing she won't feel anything but an empty spot when she rolls over. But to her surprise, confusion and delight, her skin meets hard muscle, and a pair of arms wrap around her waist._

_"Why do you call me that?" She asks sleepily, and the faceless man chuckles before pressing a kiss to her forehead._

_"Because you look and act like one."_

_"I'm furry?"_

_She's rewarded with his perfect, booming laughter, and her legs tangle with his on their own accord._

_"You're strong and beautiful." He explains, and she needs to see his face._

_This feels so natural, that she can't bring herself to question his presence here, he's **not**  a stranger._

_That's why she needs to see his face, to remember-_

_"Don't open your eyes, Mary."_

_A frown comes to her face, and she realizes her eyes are closed. But how is it possible, if she's able to see his naked chest, the dark room around them, his red clothes folded on the bedside table?_

_"Don't open your eyes, or it will be over."_

_"What will be over?"_

_"This." His fingers rub circles on her shoulder, causing her to shiver. Faintly, she realizes she's naked. "I will be gone."_

_Tears burn in her eyes, and she shakes her head. "I don't want you to go. I just found you again, after all this time."_

_She has no idea why she's saying that. It's as if there are two different Marys battling for control inside her._

_"Love you, she wolf."_

_She raises her head, needing to see his face._

And then she's alone.

At first, the experience feels vivid to the point she's just sure it was real. Even though she's now wearing her nightgown. The room is the same from the "dream", but the red clothes are gone from the bedside table. She looks around the bedroom, searching for them.

The spicy scent is gone, that warmth is gone,  _he_  is gone.

And with each passing second, she returns to reality, slowly but surely.

It's like coming back from an intense, perfect dream. You wish everything had been real, you try so hard to grasp at it, but it just slips through your fingers like sand.

No matter how hard you try to remember, to understand, to  _go back_.

Reality crashes over you mercilessly, and you have no other choice but to accept that.

Taking a shuddering breath, Mary wraps her arms around herself. The first lights of dawn are starting to come in through the window and for some reason, she wants to cry.

_It was as if she knew him..._

And she  _did_. From somewhere... It all made sense, back when she was still dreaming, so many important memories just within her reach.

Now, it feels too distant for her to even think about it.

Bringing one shaky hand to her neck, she frowns.

There used to be a string... A pendant.

A delicate, beautiful carved wolf comes to her mind, but it's soon gone too.

_What the fuck is this deep anguish?_

Almost everything from the strange dream is fading away, but something remains. The urge to find  _him_. He must be  _somewhere_  out there, and she can't remember his name.

_Get a grip on yourself._

Sighing, Mary gets out of bed and heads to the adjacent bathroom for a cold shower. She knows she needs to come back to reality and forget this.

She also knows, deep down, that she will not succeed.

* * *

**Nassau, Bahamas**

**11:30 P.M.**

He just can't stop staring at it.

The picture he took, back at the museum. One of the many, many pictures, actually.

The carved wolf pendant. Legend has it, it once belonged to the pirate Mary Read. The leather string was long gone but the wooden little object was very well preserved.

Heaving a sigh, he shakes his head. Reading about this woman... It did something to him. He feels almost haunted... And the strange things he has always felt, that urge to find someone, it's gotten so much worse.

Forcing himself to put his phone away, Elijah rolls over in bed.

This is stupidity, and he needs some rest. He should enjoy the rare opportunity to be home so early, since Scott chose not to open the tavern tonight due to a sudden storm.

It's his turn to drive Melissa to school tomorrow, so he better stop thinking about some long gone pirate and get some sleep.

* * *

**Shih Island**

**11:00 A.M.**

After tracking their mysterious beast for nearly two hours, the group of four comes across a large tree, partially hidden by some thick foliage. The paw prints on the dirt ground seem to come to an end, and Charles looks up at the surrounding trees to make sure there was no wild animal hiding up there.

Soon, the mystery is solved, and the Russian notices another trail nearby. They realize that the beast must have stopped around here to check up on something, before following another path.

"Why do you think it made a pit stop here?" Anne asks her mentor, noticing his eyes are glued to that large tree. They have been acting as if it's just the two of them, not paying Vasyl and O'Malley too much attention.

"Wild guess, but..." Charles trails off, walking up to the tree and carefully pulling the huge leaves aside.

A surprised look comes to Anne's face. And then she's smiling like a little girl.

Still holding the leaves, he looks at her over his shoulder. There's this satisfied half smirk on his face, and he nods at her to come closer.

"Come on now."

She promptly obeys, rushing to his side and dropping to her knees to take a better look at the treasure he'd just discovered.

It turns out the tree trunk was hollow, and those leaves helped to create a pretty decent shelter.

_For babies._

The three cubs are pressed close together, licking their paws, but as soon as sunlight fills their home, they look up and try to roar.

Anne laughs at their failed attempts to look tough and her mentor crouches down by her side, keeping his guard up in case the mother came back.

The cubs are almost as large as an adult cat, but they act like kittens. They can't walk properly yet, and only one of them succeeds in rolling over, his little paws in the air. As if he wanted to play. Anne wastes no time, reaching to stroke one of his paws with her index finger.

"Childhood dream coming true, Red?" Charles teases, pulling out his phone to snap a few pictures. The only thought in his mind is showing these babies to his queen later.

"Oh, no. That's  _not_  a good idea." O'Malley says when he and Vasyl come back. "When their mother returns she will smell your scent all over those cubs, what if she feels threatened? She could follow our scent all the way back to the campgrounds, step away from that tree and let's go back."

"Let them be." Vasyl interjects, watching the scene with a warm half smile. "Madame Shih has an old security system to protect the camp from jaguars, remember? We'll just have to ask her to set it up again."

"Security system?" Charles asks, genuinely intrigued, and Vasyl shrugs.

"Don't ask me. I have no idea what she does, all I know is that there are trip wires, strong but practically invisible, and when the jaguar touches them... No one knows how it works, but there's loud noise and strobe lights flashing. I believe it's the only sort of technology she's willing to use. She bought that stuff at Phuket three years ago, after a jaguar attacked and killed two members of our community. Crushed their skulls and tore them to pieces in seconds, it was impressive." Vasyl explains, and Charles keeps his eyes for a moment before nodding and focusing his attention back on the cubs.

"But as long as the security system is up and running, the campgrounds will be perfectly safe. It takes a while to set it all up, however. We should go and warn Madame Shih right away, so she can take care of that before nightfall. That nest is relatively close to our camp, so I wouldn't want to take any chances. You'll be okay, my boy?"

The last two words slip accidentally, and Vasyl mentally kicks himself when Charles tenses up. But soon, the younger man relaxes again.

"Yeah."

Breathing a sigh of relief, the Russian nods at Virgil. "Let's be on our way. Don't take too long, Charles."

As soon as they're alone, Anne allows herself to laugh again. Laugh at the moment, at the cubs' adorable antics.

"Jack's gonna kill us." She says while he records a few videos of the little creatures, and he chuckles briefly in response.

"He never got you that Chihuahua in the end, you deserve some time with your baby jaguars."

"Can you imagine what it would have been like, if we had a mascot?"

Shrugging, he reaches to stroke one of the cubs. "A pet, you mean?"

"Some badass dog, going with us on all of the hunts. That would've been fun."

He chuckles again, and the conversation is over just like that. For the next few minutes they just interact with the cubs, and Charles makes sure to record everything. His queen will probably be pissed at their recklessness when she finds out, but he's sure she'll melt like snow in the sun when she sees these babies.

He's still not willing to push their luck though, so they leave soon.

After making sure the leaves were covering the cubs' shelter safely again, they walk away from the large tree.

Back on the trail to the campgrounds, mentor and protegee meet each other's eyes, smirking like two kids who just got into mischief.

Gripping the spear tightly, Charles brings his other arm around her shoulders like a protective big brother. It makes her laugh, and she elbows his ribs half heartedly. Since it's just the two of them, they allow themselves to stay like this until they're close to the camp again.

* * *

**Los Angeles**

**09:00 P.M.**

As soon as that hateful voice fills his ear, Ned grips the jail phone tighter. His jaw clenches hard.

_"Make this quick."_

Clearing his throat, he glances at the nearby inmates.

"That was quite the trick you pulled on me, friend. Wasn't expecting it."

There's an arrogant scoff from the other side of the line.

_"So that's why you wanted to talk to me? Your poor wounded heart."_

The nerve of this man...

"I hope you know there will be consequences for you."

_"You do realize these calls are monitored by the prison's staff, right? Maybe you should think twice before threatening me."_

**_It's not you I'm threatening, you bastard... At least not directly._ **

_"My son just got six stitches on his foot, so I have other concerns in my mind right now."_

This makes him laugh.

"Poor little one. Poor, poor Aiden." He's sure to let all the sarcasm show in his voice. "Good thing your ex wife lives close to the hospital, ain't it?"

That's it. He was still trying to think of a good way to get this information without acting too suspicious and that asshole just might have handed it all to him on a silver platter...

_"We are lucky, unlike some people."_

Bingo.

_"Vermin. Rot away."_

Ned feigns to be offended, even though that bastard can't see his face.

When Rogers hangs up, he leans back against the wall, chuckling to himself.

Now he has the answer. His family is still in LA.

For a man with such a sharp mind, little governor makes poor choices when it comes to protecting his loved ones, it seems.

Ned expected him to move his family away from California; it would be the wise thing to do, when you stab a dangerous psychopath on the back...

He knows where Sarah lives.

_Only a matter of time now._

* * *

**Shih Island**

**11:00 P.M.**

_"...just met her, and they're already in love with aunt Anne."_

Eleanor laughs at the words, eyes glued to his phone screen.

"This is the most adorable thing I will ever see you two do. Nothing,  _nothing_  can possibly beat that."

Smirking, Charles presses a kiss to the side of her head and holds her closer. As predicted, she was livid when she found out about their time with the cubs, but when he started showing her the pictures and videos...

"Now we know why it ventured into camp. It was just checking for threats. The nest we found is relatively close to the campgrounds."

"You think we should be worried?"

He shakes his head, sighing briefly in satisfaction as she snuggles against him, her head tucked into the crook of his neck while she held his phone.

"She's a mother. She wants to avoid trouble. All she wants to do is raise her young, keep them fed and safe. So as long as we let her do that, she won't feel the need to try and harm us."

Even though he trusts his own words, even though Shih's security system is already up and running, he still made sure to keep Eleanor on the left side of the bunk. The one that touches the log wall of their shelter. While he's lying on the right side, his eyes going to the flap every few minutes.

When it comes to keeping his most precious treasure safe, he can never be careful enough.

"My king of the ocean  _and_  the jungle." She says suddenly. Her tone is somewhat mocking, but he easily detects the veiled admiration. It makes his heart feel warm.

"Now I feel the strange urge to see you and Anne interacting with babies...  _Human_  babies, this time."

"Good luck with that. The closest I ever got to a baby was when Caroline visited the orphanage... and you tried reaching for me from inside her womb."

Even though he's only able to see the top of her head, he just knows she's rolling her eyes in that adorable way of hers.

"You will never stop teasing me about that, will you?"

"It's just priceless."

There's silence then, and she hands the phone back to its owner when the videos are over.

After putting the device away Charles locks his hands together to hold her properly, and she yawns.

"So you never held one?"

"I held Davina, does it count?"

"Davina is nine."

"Ten." Eleanor raises her head from his shoulder, meeting his eyes with a confused frown on her face.

"She's ten. Mary said she doesn't like to celebrate her birthday, that's why we didn't hear about it."

_Like brother, like sister,_  the blonde thinks, sighing briefly and playing with a few strands of his dark hair.

"When was her birthday?"

"Couple months ago. Mary told me yesterday, during our last phone call."

"But she was nine when you held her." She insists, staring down at the anchor pendant resting on his tanned, firm chest. "Definitely  _not_  a baby."

"I'll never hold one." The words come quickly, and it feels as if a bee just stung her in the heart. Swallowing hard, Eleanor listens as he continues to speak.

"They're just too small. Too defenseless and fragile. I'm not used to that."

Looking at his perfect face again, she hesitates.

"What if one day... You need to?"

Horror fills his eyes, and she regrets her attempt immediately.

"I mean... We have quite the growing family, back in Nassau. A few couples... How long do you think it will be before they start having their own...  _cubs_?" She smirks, desperate to lighten the mood. "John and my sister. Gates and his wife could have more kids. What if Mary finds someone? What if my mother does? Oh, and there's Idelle and Featherstone too. Who knows, maybe even these two idiots in the other tent... What if you're forced to babysit one day?"

It works, and he relaxes. With a scowl, he shakes his head.

"Won't happen."

Eleanor chuckles at his defensive behavior, dropping a kiss to his shoulder to ease him.

"I actually hope this scenario will happen soon. Our family back home expanding. Babies bring light and happiness. We could use that..."

She seems lost in thought for a while. When she meets his eyes again, he has this look of pure fascination on his face.

"Makes me wonder... Who will bring the first baby to this strange, messed up family of ours?"

"Something tells me it will be Idelle."

Eleanor shakes her head. "I think it will be my sister. Scott will freak out."

"It's a bet, then."

Charles is smirking, but his eyes are still filled with wonder. As if he's just witnessed something impressive and beautiful.

Frowning at him, she doesn't try to fight against the smile forming on her face.

"What?"

"You don't avoid it anymore."

"Avoid what?"

"That word...  _Family_. You used to avoid it at all costs, and you just said it three times in  _one_  conversation."

She only realizes it now. And he thinks she'll just give some excuse, try to hide or ignore his words completely. But then she smiles softly.

"Perhaps this is the result of a healing heart."

His own heart feels so full.

"Three centuries... 'Bout damn time it started healing."

"It's a slow process though. Hope you won't lose patience."

Charles chuckles, extinguishing their candle with his own fingers. Their tent is plunged into darkness, but the moonlight from outside still lets him see the flap clearly.

He senses her confusion when he moves onto his side, facing the entrance of their shelter. Turning his back to her.

But he soon pulls her left arm over his waist, locking their fingers together and bringing her hand to his lips so he could drop a reassuring kiss to her knuckles.

"Impossible, honeypot."

It feels good, even though they're not really used to sleeping in this position. It's usually the other way around.

But this way, Charles can shield her body with his while still keeping his eyes on the flap.

The feeling of her bare breasts pressed to his back is not unwelcome either.

She's asleep soon.

_As for him..._

He slips into captain mode, "sleeping" with an eye open.

Always on alert, ready to defend her if a jaguar suddenly appeared at the entrance to their shelter.

A jaguar, or a stupid Spaniard... Or a certain crazed governor.

Anything to protect her.

_Anything for her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I desperately needed to write some fluff after... what happened with Aiden. In addition, I am going to warn you all already: it will get so much worse than this. So yeah.


	49. Braver than Him

_**Moscow** _

_**43 years ago** _

_The only thing he can truly understand is that he's terrified._

_Terrified and cold._

_It's been a little over a week since the day Adrik - **his father**  - went to retrieve him._

_He doesn't know that strange, tall, icy man at all. The boys from the gang, the ones who had been taking care of him before, they weren't exactly nice either but at least they seemed to know what they were doing, interacting with a child._

_At least they didn't get mad all the time._

_When another gun shot sounds outside, Vasyl's eyes widen a little. But he's quick to regain his composure. His father gets angry when he shows fear._

_Speaking of him..._

_He's talking to Ethan in the other room, and even though the 8-year-old can't understand a word of the foreign language they're speaking, he can hear how tense they both are._

_"...have the boy to consider now, Adrik. We can't stay holed up in here forever, can't you hear the war raging outside? It's too risky."_

_The house they're using as a hideout is dark. There's no electricity, no hot water, nothing. They're in the middle of the merciless Russian winter, and living in a nasty part of the city. Fights between gangs erupt almost every day, and Vasyl actually saw two dead bodies, the day Adrik first brought him here._

_Why did he show up now?_

_He just wants a reason. He wants to know why his father left him alone with the gang all those years._

_He liked his previous "family" better._

_They didn't have a real home. There were times when they had to go without food for days. They had no proper shelter from the cold._

_But at least those guys were harmless. They acted more like a band of lost boys in Neverland, constantly getting into mischief, but they were innocent when compared to Adrik, Ethan and their "neighbors"._

_With them, Vasyl had never felt threatened._

_And now he's in the middle of a scary war that never seems to come to an end._

_Glancing down at his bandaged hand, he leans his back against the wall, sitting on the narrow, uncomfortable cot that served as his bed._

_On his first day here, Adrik gave him a knife. It was a family heirloom, he said, his own father had given it to him, and it's been in their family since the 18th century._

_Adrik told him the story, about how their long gone ancestors left the motherland to try life as pirates in the sunny Caribbean seas. But they soon came back. The heat was too much for them._

_The knife, incredibly still in perfect shape, has been passed from father to son since then._

_It has their surname engraved on the blade._

**_"Your grandfather once met the great Grigori Rasputin, drunk in the streets. He touched our family's blade, and he bestowed a blessing upon it. It will always keep us safe, us and our loved ones."_ **

_Remembering those words, Vasyl scowls. Of course he's heard the stories about Rasputin, from his previous family... But if the blade is truly blessed, then why did it hurt him?_

_Adrik insists that he keeps the knife under his pillow. And during the first night, the child accidentally slashed his own hand open in his sleep._

_The wound is healing now._

_And it didn't happen again. After touching his blood, the blade only seems to help him sleep better._

_It keeps him somewhat relaxed in this hellish nightmare._

_Must be Rasputin's spell._

_Retrieving the family heirloom from under his pillow, he lifts it in the air. The moonlight filtering in through a window catches on it, making it glint while gun shots erupt again in the streets._

_It's a beautiful weapon._

_Vasyl wonders if one day, he will get the chance to give it to his own son._

_All he knows is that he won't follow in Adrik's footsteps._

* * *

**Phuket**

**Present Days**

Tomorrow is the big day.

And she keeps going over her plans, thinking about each and every little detail.

She wants everything to be perfect. Charles deserves it.

He's walking behind her and Jack, with Anne, and they keep grumbling about Shih and her rules. They're enjoying their third day on the mainland, and the two savages are less than thrilled about their curfew. They're supposed to be back in the Island by nightfall, so Charles and Anne's plans of enjoying the Phuket nightlife again have been frustrated.

"Who does she think she is, to dictate where we go, where we spend our time-"

"So, we have a curfew. It's no big deal, at least you're free to walk around, you don't have to study the camp for hours before leaving the safety of your tent..." Jack interrupts his leader's complaints, and Eleanor frowns. He sounds mocking and teasing, and she knows he's getting at something. "You should be grateful she's not placing voodoo objects in front of your tent, to try and control you."

Anne chuckles briefly behind them, and just as Eleanor opens her mouth to ask what the fuck they're talking about, Jack looks at Charles over his shoulder.

"That could be arranged, you know. Want me to call Vanessa?"

Her curiosity is definitely piqued now, and Eleanor clears her throat.

There's the briefest sting of jealousy but she tries to ignore it, doing her best to keep her voice nonchalant. "Who's Vanessa?"

"Jack, shut up." Charles barks out the warning, but they're not intimidated.

Walking arm in arm with her friend, Eleanor shakes her head.

"Jack, keep talking."

He pats her hand affectionately as they make their way through the busy city, his crooked smirk letting her know he's on her side.

"During one of our nights at the Demeter,  _long_ before you came along, I must say... This idiot behind us noticed a certain woman in the crowd... She caught his eye, and he was clearly interested. She was... different. Dressed like a vampire-"

"Witch." Anne cuts in, and he nods.

"Witch, darling, exactly. All in all, she was unusual. Beautiful, but... She had this air to her. I tried to warn Charles, I did. Of course, he didn't listen to a word I said. Result; he took the witch to the hideout, and had his fun with her. The next day... She thought she was part of the family. Wouldn't leave for anything in this world, even made breakfast for us."

With a sour look on her face, Eleanor glares at her criminal over his shoulder. He rolls his eyes at her.

"Vanessa was her name. We soon learned she... studied witchcraft. She considered herself a... what was the word again, darling?"

"Wicca."

"Wicca, yes. One night, just one night, and she became obsessed with Charles. She didn't understand it was meant to be a simple one night stand. Of course, his reaction was to shun her. He sent her on her way, but she didn't give up. She would spend her days watching the hideout, and he had to send us out to check every street before leaving, or she would chase him down in the city. This went on for nearly a month... Until we found a surprise at our doorstep. I think it was some sort of... Voodoo? I'm not sure. There were black candles, a liquor bottle, a dead chicken... And other strange objects I prefer  _not_  to think about."

Clenching her jaw, Eleanor sighs heavily. Anger burns stronger, and her hatred for a faceless woman grows. It makes her insane.

She  _can't believe_  all this jealousy.

"It was after that we decided to move to another hideout, the main one, the one you visited most times. Where Davina and Mary stayed too. Vanessa didn't bother us again after that. We successfully escaped her." She nods, actually surprised to realize she missed that place. Charles and her shared many moments in there, after all. And she used to see it as a shelter from the rest of the world. From Rogers and her father. Especially back when they didn't have their memories yet.

Scoffing, she glances at the criminal again. "Hopefully that served as a lesson. To make him think twice before acting like a wild animal that mates with any female just because."

He has the audacity to smirk at her.

The bastard  _knows_  she's jealous as hell, and he thinks it's  _funny_.

_She'll show him what's funny._

Rolling her eyes at him, she focuses back on the street, still arm in arm with Jack.

"Nah... One week later, and he was already christening his new room with two blonde girls.  _Always_  obsessed with blondes, weren't you, Chas? They always made you crazy. Even better if they were bossy and strong-willed." Jack leans closer to her ear, speaking in a conspiring tone. "I think his subconscious, you know-"

His words are interrupted when their two beasts walk past them with purposeful steps, and Charles takes the opportunity to punch his shoulder.

They don't bother saying where they're off to, but Eleanor knows they have ship stuff to take care of. After that, they'll probably spend hours at some steakhouse, as they've been doing since their first day on the mainland.

Rolling her eyes one last time and looking away from the retreating forms, Eleanor stops them on their walk.

"I have...  _something_  I need to pick up at a store. Want to see?"

A curious glint comes to Jack's eyes, one of his eyebrows raising. "His gift?"

She smiles brightly, tugging on his arm and pulling him towards another street.

"Come on."

* * *

**Los Angeles**

Usually, this sight is enough to bring a warm smile to her face. Her son's sleeping form, the soft rise and fall of his chest, his peaceful features, somehow even more innocent in sleep. This always makes her feel serene, happy.

Right now, Sarah can't feel anything but anguish.

Maybe because she's also seeing his little leg, his poor foot. Bandaged, so he won't mess with his stitches.

Or maybe because the adrenaline has passed, and only now does she realize the amount of anger she had felt towards Woodes, when their son got hurt.

She was ready to throw punches, she wanted him to disappear, it's even safe to say she  _hated_  him with all her strength back then.

Now she feels guilty. She wasn't supposed to feel this way towards the man she has always loved. But ever since Aiden was born, her priorities went through so many changes. There's this natural instinct inside her, growing stronger with each passing day. It's a surprise to her.

Back at the hospital, she was always talking to Max about how weak she was, saying she would never connect with her son, never develop a maternal instinct, never be able to care for him.

Now here she is. With those strange feelings, she has no idea where they come from, but they just keep surfacing. Sometimes she just feels like a lioness, willing to do anything to protect her little cub.

She supposes this is something only women, only  _mothers_  can understand. This primitive instinct, as old as time itself. It has come even for  _her_.

And it makes something stir inside her. Awakening a strength she didn't even know she possessed.

_And yet, it's not enough..._

The nursery door opens slowly, and she doesn't move a muscle.

Doesn't look at him.

His careful, quiet footsteps come all the way to the crib, and he stops by her side.

They haven't said a word to each other since the moment they left the hospital, but she senses it. She senses his guilt, she knows that deep down, Wooded is aware it was all his fault. Not hers. Not the walker's. But  _his_ , for throwing that damn glass to the ground.

But she also knows, that he won't ever admit it even to himself. It's far easier to blame somebody else for his mistakes, it's what he has always done, his entire life. And she has always been his first target.

They stand there, side by side, their arms nearly touching while they watch their son.

Aiden makes some noise, turning his head to the side and pursing his lips briefly. Sarah just hopes he's not in pain.

"He does have your chin."

The words make her frown. Woodes always says their son is a spitting image of him, he always says that all Aiden got from her was the hair color.

So she supposes it means a lot; the fact that he's admitting this...

At the back of her mind, she's reminded of a book she once read, about psychopath behavior and abusive relationships.

Faintly, she realizes that the book seemed more like Woodes' journal. Everything he does, everything he says,  _each detail_  about the way he acts, it was all there on those pages.

She feels the sudden urge to read that book again.

It soon vanishes. The fear chases it away.

Shaking her head, she looks at him. His eyes are glued to their son.

"We were so happy, once upon a time. What happened to us, Woodes?"

He scoffs weakly, but she sees no signs of contempt...

"Reality called."

" _Reality_..." Trailing off and looking at Aiden, Sarah lets out a heavy, broken sigh.

Minutes go by, until she looks at her ex-husband's face again. There's this resolute glint in her eyes.

"Even though you're breaking my heart every single day, I still love you." Her quiet voice is strained, tears breaking the dam and starting to roll down her cheeks slowly. He finally meets her eyes. This encourages her, even though the look on his face is devoid of any emotion whatsoever. "You gave me everything. You saved me, and you gave me a life... I  _belong_  to you."

Her breath catches when he touches her chin. She could swear his thumb moved, only a millimeter, if that, but still... It still counted as a caress, didn't it?

At least to her, it did. She's used to picking up crumbs anyway. They suffice to her.

She leans in closer, her heart beating wildly in her chest. But then he's breaking her heart again.

"Then I'm setting you free, Sarah."

Just like that, he lets go of her chin, walking away to leave the nursery.

Tears burn in her eyes and she holds her breath, until she hears that door on the end of the hallway opening and closing.

The door to the room he's occupying.

After taking one last look at Aiden, she leaves the nursery too. Her eyes immediately seek the door down the hall.

He's probably getting ready for bed, and  _how she wishes they could sleep in each other's arms once again_.

Even if she was forced to hear him calling out for Eleanor in his sleep the whole night. Swallowing hard, Sarah wraps her arms around herself, her feet taking her to her own room.

_I'm setting you free._

She doesn't feel free.

Only terrified.

* * *

**Bavarian Alps**

"It looks much prettier now, I'll go get mama!" Davina squeals in delight, taking one last look at their work before running off.

"Don't run on the stairs!" Billy calls out, although knowing it's no use. This little girl will only learn her lesson when she trips and gets hurt. But sometimes he doubts this day will ever come. She never falls, she's just so agile, acrobatic, skilled.

_Just like her brother._

Back in their time, in Nassau, she would have been considered one hell of a prodigy. Maybe even good enough to surpass Anne Bonny when she grew up.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Billy clenches his jaw briefly. He does  _not_  like to think about his little girl in that environment, that time. In the middle of all that danger.

But his eyes soften again when he catches sight of the teenage girl, hopelessly trying to reach for something on one of the shelves, on the other side of the stables.

They've been cleaning the place the whole week, getting rid of the bugs and the dust, since Davina took such a liking to spending hours on end in here. Talking to imaginary horses in the stalls and everything.

_And here I thought she would just forget about the horse thing in a few days,_  Billy muses while crossing the stables to reach the teenager.

Davina is  _so_  going to ask her brother for a horse, once they're back in Nassau. And he knows that, just like him, Vane can never deny her anything. He'll probably be proud and take her to choose a horse the very same day.

He's really fucked. Mary's gonna kill him, scalp him and feed his organs to the sharks. And he'll be lucky if she does it in that order.

"Need a hand?" He teases, and Abigail rewards him with a wide smile.

"I really hope I still have a few inches to grow... This is ridiculous." She complains, trying one last time to reach for her mysterious object, and failing miserably.

"It's adorable, the way I see it. Don't be so hard on yourself. It's a high shelf. Here-"

He doesn't get to see the blush that tinges her cheeks when his hands settle on her waist. She's light like a feather so he easily lifts her, until she's finally able to close her fingers around the occult object.

Her giggle makes him smile. She's been different, lately. Not so shy. Keeping his eyes for a longer time, bravely, even though her cheeks go red...

It makes him feel...  _encouraged_.

Since the day she came back, since the day she made the decision to stay with them, he's been feeling extremely elated. Her smiles and those curious doe eyes are doing things to him,  _disturbing_  things.

By now he's not too worried about Mary's threats anymore; she'll kill him anyway, when she sees Davina with a horse.

But he  _does_  have a moral code.

Abigail is 16. He's 25.

She's innocent, naive, inexperienced. Unlike him.

Would he be taking advantage of her, even if that wasn't his intention?

Should he just stick to the way things are now, when all they do is exchange meaningful looks across the table while Davina blabbers on and on, when his hand endps up "accidentally" brushing hers and vice versa?

She does it too. Her own advances, shy and hesitant as they might be. She probably thinks he doesn't notice, but he does.

_He does._

He also notices she's already back on her feet, and he's holding to her waist for more time than what was absolutely necessary.

He also notices she's showing no signs of complaint.

And he notices she seems pleasantly surprised,  _very_ pleasantly, when he pulls her a little bit closer to his body, testing the waters...

Only to let go of her and step away suddenly when Davina drags Mary into the stables.

"Look, mama! Isn't it pretty?"

Mary lets go of her hand, crossing her arms and taking a look at the place.

"It is, baby. Good job. I suppose you can play here now. As long as you don't touch an actual horse, that is. Now come on, time for your bath. You're a mess."

They're alone again, listening to Davina's complaints as she tried to convince Mary she didn't need a bath at all.

Abigail laughs, and he knows what she's thinking.

"It was nice meeting you."

Chuckling, he walks at her side as they head to the big doors of the stables slowly. "Yeah, she'll have my head. I'm prepared. What was your mysterious object anyway?"

She smirks, showing him a little journal.

"It's our horror story compilation. Mine and Eleanor's. We used to write everything down when we were younger, so we could read them over and over again. We would tell each other these tales when we sneaked away to spend our nights here. Hers were always so much scarier than mine, though."

Billy shrugs, raising an eyebrow. " _She_  is scary."

"I suppose she can be. But she has a heart made of gold too. Deep down. She stayed by my side and took care of me when  _no one else_  would."

He fights hard against the urge to scoff at that, not wanting to hurt Abigail. He knows how much she looks up to that woman. And maybe it's true that the tyrant has changed. After everything he saw, back at Somalia, everything she did for Vane when he took that bullet for her.

His own priorities have changed.  _He_  has changed. Maybe Eleanor has too.

_Miracles do happen sometimes, after all._

Just as they're about to leave the stables, he stops them on their walk.

"Would you like to have dinner with me one night? Or just... Spend some time- I mean, Davina is always near us, we have no time to just talk-"

There's this glint in Abigail's eyes as she smirks at him. "Are you asking me out?"

He's definitely surprised at her straightforwardness, but she could be just joking. So he joins her in her little game, scratching the back of his head as if he was nervous.

_"As if", right._

"I can't really take you to a fancy restaurant, but maybe we could share some quality time in a stable? As friends, you see. You did say you'd like to know more about my past."

She pretends to think for a moment, making a serious face. It's adorable and he just wants to kiss her.

_Goddamn it, does that make him a pedophile?_

Her doe eyes shine beautifully as she beams at him, her cheeks already blushing at the words she's going to say next.

"It's a date."

* * *

**Phuket**

"God, but this is honestly outstanding, love. He'll adore it." Jack says, and she knows he's being sincere. There's this look of pure awe on his face as he turns the object in his hands, eyes drinking in the details.

The symbols, the fine leather.

Eleanor came here three days ago, during their first mainland day, to place her order. She had brought a drawing with her, of the three symbols, and she's glad to see they did a perfect job recreating what she wanted.

All the money she gave them in advance was probably a nice incentive for them to work hard  _and_  fast.

"You really think he's going to like it?"

Jack scoffs, not taking his eyes off of the object, studying it closely and not finding any flaws.

"Are you  _kidding_  me? He'll display it like a trophy."

She lowers her eyes, a smile forming on her lips against her will. Suddenly, she really wants the hours to fly by, she wants tomorrow to come, she  _needs_ to see his reaction when he receives his gifts.

Damn it, she feels giddy like a schoolgirl.

"Miss? The other one." An accented voice says, causing both her and Jack to look over at the counter.

Trying hard - and failing miserably - to school her features into a more neutral expression, she walks over to receive the second part of her order.

The silver box glints in her hands, and despite the reassuring weight, she still opens it to take a peek at its contents.

The object resting inside makes her smile widen, and she reads the phrase engraved on it at least six times.

Satisfied with what she sees, Eleanor closes the box and finishes paying for her orders. Jack is hot on her heels when she leaves the store.

"What's inside that box?"

"It's a secret, for now."

He rolls his eyes, and she holds on to her handbag tightly. It contains her pirate's gifts, and she's not willing to lose them.

"Is this what Anne advised you to give him?"

"Actually... These are just extra gifts. The real event... The most important part, it's only in my head for now. Let's just say that I... made some special plans for tomorrow."

She winks at him, not failing to see the admiration in his eyes. He's probably glad to see just how much she cares about his best friend. His brother, practically.

"You're really outdoing yourself, aren't you."

"He deserves all of this... After everything I've put him through, he deserves to be spoiled... From times to times."

"Don't let him get used to it, or you'll create a monster."

His words cause her to laugh.

She's still lost in her giddiness when there's a stab of pain in her lower abdomen, reminding her of their next errand.

Grimacing briefly, she stops and heaves a sigh.

"Okay, next stop: drugstore."

"Why?" Jack inquiries, frowning in confusion. But soon, it hits him. "Oh. Of course. You need to buy their entire stock of condoms."

Shooting him a glare, she shakes her head.

"You're exaggerating."

"It's  _not_  too far from the truth."

"Drama queen. Actually, it's not just  _that_. I need some medicine."

He actually stops walking. The concern in his eyes makes her want to hug him.

"You're feeling unwell, darling?"

Yeah, she wants to hug him. But it's plain daylight, there are people all around them, and she has a reputation to uphold.

So she's quick to reassure him, at least.

"Just my period being a bitch. Cramps. It's rare but when I do get them... It's awful."

He sighs in relief and they resume their walk, arm in arm again.

People probably think they're a couple, same with Anne and Charles. She finds the thought amusing.

"Well, everything's back to normal, then? I'm happy for you."

"It seems so. Two real periods since the last time I took a birth control pill, and at the same time of the month. I guess it's safe to say my fertility is back to normal, yes. We should be able to start relying on the calendar method soon, while I don't have the IUD. It worked perfectly, three centuries ago." Heaving a sigh, she shakes her head. "Cramps on the last day of my period. This sucks. Thought I was free, but no."

"Come on, it could be worse. You could be praying for it to come right now, worried as hell, and going to the drugstore for a pregnancy test."

She chuckles, nodding in agreement. Jack only lets go of her arm when they reach their destination.

She has a feeling he walks with her like that to make sure no one will try anything with her. It's a display of affection, of course, but at the same time he's keeping his promise to protect her in Charles' absence.

She actually finds it endearing, instead of freaking out.

"And it seems I'm actually luckier than I thought. It will be over just in time for me and Charles to... celebrate his birthday properly."

Jack narrows his eyes at her, seeming to read her mind. "But I hope you'll be careful. Your body could still play a trick on you, if you know what I mean."

Eleanor clicks her tongue, dismissing his warning with a wave of her hand.

"Jack. You know me." Patting his shoulder, she shrugs. "Of  _course_  I will be careful."

He watches as she goes inside the drugstore, then purses his lips and takes a look around.

For some reason, Jack finds himself having a hard time believing her words.

* * *

**Shih Island**

He's  _not_  eager for tomorrow to come.

That day, that day he  _despises_  so much. It's always such a torture, he gets angry, he gets frustrated, and  _fuck_ , he just hopes he won't take it all out on Eleanor.

She doesn't deserve it, it's not her fault if he's had a shitty childhood. No, it's somebody else's fault.

His uncle's face flashes in his mind and he shakes his head, trying to focus on Davina's voice.

She's telling him all about her week, and this was the only way he found to calm the fuck down.

Charles always gets antsy before  _and_  during that hateful day, and this year is no exception.

But his sister's voice make things easier, so he enjoys it as much as he can. Until phone signal stops cooperating and he's forced to bid Davina goodnight.

One look at his phone screen after he finishes the call. One look, and he clenches his jaw hard.

Just after midnight. It's already July the 12th.

_His birthday._

Swallowing hard, he takes a deep breath, eyes glued to his ship in the bay.

He's conquered so much.

A family. His Ranger, swaying in the waves. A brand new life.

_Her._

The one thing he thought he'd never have. Her loyalty.

Her full love. Her  _trust_.

The corners of his lips twitch up, bright blue eyes softening.

No, he won't snap at her tomorrow. She probably has no clue about his birthday, it will be just another regular day for her, and he's willing to try and ignore the date altogether. He'll just go about his day normally, and instead of fighting and pushing his queen away, he will enjoy every second by her side. He will use her light to help him forget.

_He can do it._

Feeling determined, he puts his phone away before beginning the short trip back to the campgrounds below. All he wants is to return to Eleanor's side, to lay down on the bunk and gather her in his arms, to watch her scowl of complaint at the disturbance before she snuggled against him with that delicious sigh of satisfaction of hers, still asleep.

His perfect thoughts are interrupted when someone intercepts him, just as he's about to begin his descent into camp.

It's the Russian, and Charles raises an eyebrow at him.

He seems somewhat nervous, and when he pulls out his knife, the younger man tenses up immediately.

"I want you to have it." Vasyl explains, and he can't help but scoff quietly. "My father gave this to me, and for a long time, it reminded me about how he left me behind as if I was nothing. I got over that. So now this is meaningless to me. Useless."

The night sounds of the jungle surround them, and Vasyl heaves a sigh at his lack of reaction.

"Try and get over your past, Charles, like I did. It will be best for you and your lady. Don't let the weight of what your father did to you pull you down. Remember you're not a mirror of him. You are so much braver than that man. And I know that if the time comes for you to be a father yourself, you won't let your fear cripple you, as he did. You know why?"

He can't believe it, but there's the briefest sting of tears in his eyes. It feels as if a knot forms in his throat when the Russian speaks again.

"Because you're superior, Charles."

Raising his chin and straightening up as best as he can, he narrows his eyes.

"You speak as if you know my father."

"I know enough."

They stare at each other for a few moments, this strange atmosphere between them. Vasyl tries offering him the knife again, nodding down at it.

"It has been touched by a great mystic. Healed the last tsar's son countless times, that he did. His name was Rasputin."

Charles scowls.

He doesn't even have a fucking clue who was the last tsar. Maybe Jack and Eleanor have done some reading on the subject.

But it doesn't matter. Why should he care about Russia? He has no Russian blood.

As far as he knows, that is.

"It's a blessed weapon. Meant to protect its owner and their loved ones."

Letting out a dry, acid chuckle, he shakes his head.

"I don't believe in magicians or blessings."

Vasyl frowns, tilting his head to the side. "How come? When you're lying awake at night, just so you can keep watching  _her_ breathe for hours on end... Isn't  _that_ a blessing?"

He has to admit it, the Russian has left him speechless with that one.

"Will you accept it? Blessed or not, it's an effective weapon all the same. Could help you keep Eleanor safe from the dangers of this Island. And the rest of the world."

His eyes go to the knife. It does look like a good weapon, and unique too. It seems ancient, and he'd be lying if he said he never felt curious about it and its origins. It actually reminds him of some knives from his past life.

It's as if his hand moves on its own accord, and before he can think twice, his fingers are wrapping around the hilt.

Vasyl lets go of it, and they meet each other's eyes again.

Crickets chirp, hidden somewhere in the lush vegetation behind them, and the Russian smiles at him.

It's the smile of someone who just saw one of their biggest dreams coming true.

It's unsettling, so Charles averts his eyes and walks past him.

As he returns to the campgrounds, as he walks over to his and Eleanor's tent, he doesn't look back for even a second.

* * *

His smile refuses to vanish as Vasyl stands there on the hill, watching the camp below, watching as Charles went into his tent. The tent where his princess slept.

_Their family's blessed blade in his hand._

His heart feels so much lighter. Heaving a sigh, he takes a moment to thank the heavens for this most wonderful gift. Happiness invades his soul as he speaks.

"Happy birthday, my son."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be mostly about Charles' birthday, so I'm warning you all that there won't be too much plot progress. It will be more like a mess of shameless smut, tenderness, angst and some pillow talk. Among other things.


	50. Take me Away

_**Nassau, Bahamas** _

_**Three centuries ago** _

_Her mother used to tell her that one day, she would know what it felt like to be in love. To share a bond so strong with another human being... That the desire of keeping them near would be irresistible._

_Her mother used to say, in the dead of night, that she would eventually have a husband to chase away her nightmares._

_Those words were supposed to reassure her, probably. But to Eleanor, they just sounded like another bad dream. She didn't want to get married._

_She didn't even want to fall in love._

_Now, years later, there is still no husband in her life. No proper husband to spend the nights by her side, as her mother used to predict... and hope._

_No perfect prince charming, but a sea dog with bright blue eyes instead._

_She watches as he suddenly gets to his feet, heading over to the desk and opening one of the shelves. A frown comes to her face when he pulls out a map, unfurling it across the wooden surface._

_Sitting up on the mattress, she tries to cover her naked chest with his blanket at first. But it would be pointless, so she sighs and moves to the edge of the bunk, curious eyes still glued to him._

_He still has that barely perceptible smile on his lips. And again, the sight brings a fresh stab of pain to her heart._

_He's so invested. So happy. Because she's been seeking him out more often, spending every single night by his side. She even let him bring her to the ship tonight._

_He probably thinks she's finally embracing their relationship fully. If only he knew, that she's only enjoying him while she can._

_Because when he comes back from the next hunt, she will put an end to their strange, unique, **delicious**  relationship._

**_It's time._ **

_She should have done this a while ago, actually. Weakness is something she just can't afford._

_"Mark every single place you want to see. I can give you this." His raspy voice breaks the silence in the cabin, and she can practically feel her walls starting to come up again. Her posture stiffens, and she shakes her head immediately._

_"I am **not**  leaving this place."_

_He shrugs at her words, and out of pure curiosity, she gets up and walks over to take a look at the map._

_"If it's only for a few months... What's the harm? I'm just offering you a little chance at freedom. The world is vast, believe me. There is so much more to see, so much more than one little island."_

_Capturing her lower lip between her teeth, Eleanor looks from the map to his face. There's a part of her, a small part, that actually wants to say yes. It surprises her, and it's scary as hell._

_"All you need to say is take me away. World will be ours."_

_Her scoff of contempt only seems to make his smile widen a little bit._

_"You are absolutely drunk, aren't you."_

_The ship sways beneath their feet. It has no effect whatsoever on his balance, but Eleanor has to grasp at the desk in order to keep hers. Her chest tightens when he reaches out to grab a hold of her arm._

_The gesture, so simple, means so much to her. He cares enough, to the point of not letting her fall._

_And she needs to stop thinking about this._

_"Drunks speak the truth." His voice is softer now, she can hear the affection so clearly in his tone. He's still holding her arm, his thumb stroking her skin in an almost **revering** manner._

_It's her addiction..._

_"Maybe one day."_

_She knows that such a day would never come. And strangely, that thought tore at her heart in such a violent way... It wasn't supposed to be like this._

_It wasn't supposed to hurt so fucking much. She wasn't supposed to **feel**  so fucking much._

_Will she ever be able to lock these emotions away for good?_

_Charles smiles at her words. It's probably one of the most sincere smiles she has ever seen, and when he pulls her to him, she's glad the cabin is immersed in darkness._

_This way, he can't see the lone tear rolling down her left cheek._

_As he walks her back towards the bunk, calloused hands moving over her body, she tries to memorize everything as best as she can._

_How his skin feels under her fingers. His unique, comforting scent. The taste of his mouth. Rum and cigars._

_The rough texture of his hair. The warmth of him, the muscles. She needs to memorize every single detail, because this is their last night. Once he leaves to go hunt tomorrow, it's over._

**_It's over._ **

_She will never feel this safe again. Never feel so warm and loved, only being in his arms can make her feel like that._

_But she's doing the right thing. Or at least that's what she keeps trying to tell herself. For what's probably the 1000th time, that familiar urge comes. The urge to give up, to just keep him in her life..._

_And she locks it away again. This time, for good. This time, she throws the key out._

_It **wasn't**  supposed to hurt so much._

* * *

**Shih Island**

**Present Days**

Dragging the cart through the jungle, Charles heaves a sigh.

Why did mother nature have to be so cruel to women? Couldn't they just receive a note every month saying they're not pregnant? Why did they have to bleed for days?

_Four days, four days without her._

It's not that the blood makes him uncomfortable. He did make that very clear. Four days ago, when her monthly time started, he couldn't care less. He's aware about the fact many men find it disgusting, but he would have no problem touching her during those days. It's still  _her_ , after all, and blood is nothing he hasn't seen before.

She would never be able to make him feel disgusted.

But  _she_  is uncomfortable.  _She_  asked him not to try anything during her period,  _she_  wanted to avoid intimacy during this time.

And of course, he respected her wishes.

But Mary used to tell him that some women get more sensitive while they're on their period, she told him their pleasure is intensified immensely, but most of them are ashamed of sharing this kind of intimacy with another person.

He wonders if his queen is one of these women. If her pleasure would be more intense during these days. And he hopes she will eventually feel comfortable enough so they can find out together.

For now, all that matters is that this hellish time is over and he will be able to have her again tonight.

Naturally, his eyes roam over the campgrounds when he emerges from the jungle. Searching for her. But she's nowhere to be seen, and night is falling. Maybe she's in their tent?

O'Malley senses his hurry when he leaves the cart in front of that little shed near the beach. So the former bodyguard takes it upon himself to take care of the wood he brought, while he rushed towards his and Eleanor's tent.

His heart sinks when he pulls the flap open. No signs of her.

She could be talking to Jack in his and Anne's tent-

His hopes are crushed when he turns around and sees his best friend talking to Keswick near the campfire.

Anne is coming back from the beach and he intercepts her, trying not to be out of his mind with worry.

"Where is she?"

The redhead looks at the ocean over her shoulder, then nods at the ship near the strait.

"She convinced the Asian. Guess she missed our old girl."

He raises an eyebrow, looking from his protégée to the ship.

"You two have permission to spend the night there, away from the campgrounds." Jack explains, walking over to stand at their side. "Ladder is down, you can just take our rowboat right away... She's waiting for you. Enjoy."

Charles stares at his accomplices for couple of seconds longer. Then, without another word, he walks to the ocean.

Not even bothering with the rowboat, he just throws himself into the water, and the couple watches as he swims towards the ship.

A brief chuckle leaves Anne's lips. "Something tells me he'll enjoy it a lot."

Jack sighs, bringing an arm around her shoulders and watching the ship.

"Let's hope he will finally have a happy birthday."

The redhead has to scoff at his words.

" _Please_. It's Eleanor."

* * *

He reaches the ship in a matter of minutes. The ladder made of rope and wood is down, just like Jack said, so he grabs one of the rungs and begins to climb. Once his feet touch the deck, Charles narrows his eyes.

She's not here up here. That means she can only be in their cabin. And she probably wants to do something special to celebrate their night alone on the Ranger. His jaw clenches automatically, and he throws one of the hatch doors open before going down the stairs. He could have just chosen the ladder behind the helm to get to the captain's quarters faster, but the walk through those darkened corridors helps him get his irritation under control.

Why the hell did she have to plan something special  _tonight_? On this cursed date?

Goddamn it, he wants to strangle her. And not in the way she likes.

Once he reaches that large wooden door, Charles takes a deep breath.

_Here we go again..._

The first thing he notices is that the electric lights are out. A few candles illuminate their cabin instead, casting a soft glow that reminds him of the past.

This place looks even more like his old sleeping quarters now. It would be soothing, if he wasn't so livid.

His eyes settle on her. She's sitting on his chair, watching him with this expectant look on her face. But her features soon contort into a scowl.

"You  _swam_? Jack brought me here, then he returned to the beach with the rowboat so you could use it-"

"Fucking thing's too slow." His voice is hoarse and she falls silent. "What the  _hell_  do you want, Eleanor?"

This hurt look comes to her face, but she's quick to mask it. And he feels like the worst bastard in the world.

She's not doing anything wrong. She just missed their ship, and went all the trouble of convincing Madame Shih so they could have this night for themselves. Her intentions were pure and good, and Charles hates himself so much for reacting like this. But his queen couldn't possibly have picked a worst night. This feels like a birthday celebration, and he doesn't like it at all.

Eleanor raises her chin, icy coldness filling her eyes.

"I want many things. I want my ex-husband to disappear from planet Earth, along with your uncle. I want to take care of my tavern again. I want to go back home. But for now..." She gets to her feet, and his mouth waters despite the hatred and the anger. She's wearing those red, satin sleep shorts and the black tank top, the one that clings to her curves. That combination makes him insane, and she's angry. It only makes him want her even more. "...what I want is for you to stop being such an idiot. An  _asshole_  who gets mood swings out of the blue. What's the  _matter_  with you?"

She stops in front of him, crossing her arms. There's that fire in her eyes and he can't help but notice she's not wearing a bra.

That urge to strangle her is turning into something else. Three hundred years later, and she's still able to do  _this_. He'll never understand how in the world she manages to turn his rage to lust in the blink of an eye.

"You said you missed the ship... This morning, you woke me up with a massage. And then at lunch, before you left camp to go get more wood, you were happy. You were smiling, and now you're mad at me? How come? What the  _fuck_  did I do?"

" _You_  didn't do anything." He makes sure to emphasize that first word, wanting her to understand... But he can't bring himself to tell her what day it is, he just can't.

It's an uncomfortable impasse, they stand there in front of each other for what feels like an eternity.

Charles averts his eyes first.

A frown comes to his face when he looks at his desk.

One of his maps, unfurled across the wooden surface. Little dots, marking various places. He doesn't remember leaving those marks. But they're too delicate, so there's no way it was him...

Charles walks around the table slowly, taking a look at the map. At the dots.

Cancun. Rio de Janeiro. The Hawaii. Greece. Italy. Ireland... Inverness? What the hell? Denmark,  _Norway_.

_Mark every single place you want to see. I can give you this._

His heart skips a beat as the memory comes suddenly. He can feel his anger evaporating. Eleanor's too, he senses it as she relaxes, her irritation fading away.

"Take me away." Her voice is soft. Almost shy. She somehow sounds hesitant and resolute all the same time, and he knows it took her a lot of effort to finally get those words out... Finally, after three hundred years.

His eyes are filled with surprise as he looks from the map to her face.

"You remember that."

With a crooked smirk, Eleanor closes the distance between them. Her arms go around his neck. "World will be ours... right?"

He just stares at her face for a few seconds, still unable to believe this was really happening.

"Right... We need to deal with a few pests first, though."

She chuckles at that, her fingers toying with the strands of his hair.

"That we do. I did say... ' _Maybe one day_ ', remember?"

"Where did this come from-" He stops, his eyes falling closed as realization dawns on him. "Jack told you."

Her silence is the only confirmation he needs. With a shake of his head, Charles steps away from her.

"I don't know why the hell I still let him live."

Turning his back to her, he stares down at the map again. Soon, her quiet voice fills his ears.

"Does this make you uncomfortable?"

He's about to growl out a  _yes_ , but it never comes. Scowling, Charles lets his fingers trace over some of the places she had marked.

"No."

Even he is surprised.

Silence reigns, disturbed only by Eleanor's light footsteps as she walked over to stand by his side behind the desk.

He's suddenly curious.

"What about your own birthday?"

"Secret."

He tilts her chin up with his index finger, their eyes locking.

"Scott." Is all he says, and she huffs in annoyance. Knowing she'll lose this one.

The heavenly scent of her hair makes him close his eyes briefly as she opens one of the shelves.

"I got you something... Back at the mainland."

Charles stares at her as if she'd just grown a second head.

"You bought me a birthday  _gift_."

His tone is laced with disbelief and she shrugs, handing him a bag. "Two, actually... They're custom made. I hope you'll like them."

She's not acting like herself at all. It's as if he's interacting with an awkward teenager, insecure about her first date. He never thought he would see her like this, and it's so fucking adorable. His queen is not really sure what she's doing, this is so new to her, but she's still trying to act like her normal self.

_An epic fail._

When he finally brings himself to look away from her face in order to check the contents of the bag, his smirk is automatic. She bought him a hip flask.

The lid is clearly made of silver, but the rest is covered by fine, black leather. It creates a beautiful contrast.

"Check the other side." Eleanor sounds almost eager. It's as if she's trying to hide her excitement and he obeys, turning the flask in his hands, eager to see-

A brief chuckle leaves his lips involuntarily.

The symbols of his old flag, in white. Outlined delicately in red. It's a very thin line, barely perceptible, but it brings out the three white symbols beautifully. What a huge difference one simple detail can make.

"I made the reference drawing... Out of memory, so it's probably not a perfect copy but-"

"It  _is_ perfect. This is-"

"There's... Something else." Eleanor interrupts him, nodding down at the bag. She's discreetly tugging at the hem of her tank top, clearly nervous, and his curiosity is piqued again.

After setting the hip flask on his desk, he retrieves a simple box from the bag. Eleanor is biting her lower lip while he opens it, and his heart skips a beat at what he finds.

He immediately identifies it as a cigar case. A cigar case made of solid gold.

Practically able to hear Eleanor's heart drumming, he inspects the object. His eyes drink in every single fine detail, his initials and, again, the symbols of his flag adorning one of the extremities... But what has him in pure awe is the phrase engraved right on the center of the case.

_So much I shall give back to you_

It's there. Those simple words, that hold such an enormous meaning. And it's  _her_  handwriting. She probably wrote it down on a piece of paper and took it to the shop along with her drawing of the three symbols.

_That phrase..._

He did mention a thing or two about that hallucination he had of her, three centuries ago, but he didn't reveal what "she" had said to him that night.

So this phrase, this beautiful phrase, his queen didn't choose it on purpose. It's what her instinct told her to write, and it couldn't be more perfect.

_So much I have taken from you._

_**So much I shall give back to you.** _

"I'm afraid I couldn't bring your sister to spend the occasion with us, but... Freedom." She gestures at the map, and he meets her eyes again. "Cigarettes... Because that case can hold them too. Alcohol; now you can easily carry your rum around."

A smile is slowly forming on his lips, with each word she says.

So that's why she was asking if there was anything he wanted, days ago. And she actually took his answer to heart.

_It means so fucking much to him._

"Your ship...  _Me_."

He meets her halfway, setting the golden case on his desk so he could bring his arms around her as their lips crashed together in a slow, but lustful kiss.

Her body is soon trapped between his and the desk, but she suddenly pulls away. He notices she has grabbed the flask.

"We should check if it's working properly. Why don't you sit down while I take care of this?"

He doesn't say a word, but his eyes remain locked with hers as he follows her suggestion.

He doesn't know where this is going but damn it, he  _really_ wants to find out.

She's a mermaid with legs, he can't stop staring as she saunters over to their cabinet, hip flask in hand.

A low groan escapes his lips. While filling the flask with his favorite rum, she's starting to move, almost experimentally...

The sway of her hips has him hypnotized, and his fingers tighten on the armrests of his chair. He swallows in anticipation.

_Is she going to...?_

After placing the bottle back in their cabinet, she reaches to turn on their stereo. Her phone is connected to it and he watches as she scrolls through her playlist, using her free hand to bring the flask to her lips, hips still moving slowly to a silent song.

Until there's those sounds. Horns blowing, sounding almost like a ship's signal, and those hollowed, dissipating tones. As soon as the eerie, powerful song fills their cabin, a smirk breaks out on Charles' face. And he can see she's grinning too, while placing her phone on top of the stereo.

One of the only songs they both like.

Usually, they disagree enormously when it comes to music. He and Anne are addicted to rock, especially heavy metal, and to other songs Jack and Eleanor can only describe as "sick and creepy", since they're classical music lovers.

_But this song in particular..._

Anne happens to be crazy for Amanda Seyfried, and one night back in Nassau, the group of four decided to watch _Red Riding Hood_  together. Jack was the only one who didn't get completely addicted to the soundtrack.

_This song in particular._

It's gut-wrenching, but beautiful. Contorted, perverse, spine-chilling, astounding,  _sensual as hell_.

And he's staring at his queen as she makes her way over to his chair, drinking from the flask, eyes locked with his.

The faint candlelight, the song mixing with the waves and the creaking wood, it all creates an other-worldly atmosphere. Charles feels as if they're miles away from the island, from Thailand, from Earth itself. It's like they've traveled to an isolated dimension where it's just the two of them.

And right now, nothing would possibly be able to make him want to return.

" _The Wolf_ " is the name of the song. And it couldn't be more appropriate.

Because she's looking as if she could devour him whole, and there's something strong flowing between them when she finally reaches his chair. Electricity sparks as she hands him the flask, their fingers brushing for a split second.

The cadence grows, those horns still blowing, other instruments joining in. Making the sound more intense, as if mimicking his growing anticipation.

The lyrics are about to begin, he knows, and she's circling his chair like a predator. She's the wolf here, and he's perfectly content to be her prey tonight.

His hair is still wet from the ocean and she touches it, her fingertips stroking his scalp just briefly. Goosebumps raise all over his arms, she lets her hand travel down his neck, then his right shoulder, those sharp nails probably leaving faint lines in their wake. Marking his skin, his body, as her property.

_Predator._

He grips the flask tighter when she finally steps into his field of vision again, running her hand from his shoulder all the way down to his thigh, a feather like caress this time. Then she's stepping away from the chair.

She has that look in her eyes... The one he could swear she has learned from a Goddess. The one from his hallucination.

It was always one of his favorites. That look that says " _I know I'm invincible, and I love it_." Strength and wickedness blend perfectly in her eyes, and he's addicted.

Then it begins. And he wouldn't be able to look away from her, even if the ship started to catch fire.

_"Eyes black, big paws,_

_And it's poison,_

_And it's blood"_

She's swaying her hips to the dark, mystic song like a professional, dancing just out of his reach. Maybe she should have tied him to the chair, he has no clue how long he'll be capable of refraining from touching her.

But it's simply so fascinating to watch her like this, that he really wants it to go on and on.

_"And big fire, big burn_

_Into the ashes_

_And no return"_

The elastic band that had been holding her gorgeous curls into a ponytail comes off and she shakes out her hair, just as the wailing begins.

Her hair is untamed, messy curls framing her face and giving her a wild, ferocious look. The eerie " _wooo's_ " from the singer, imitating a wolf's howl, only make it even better.

He loves it when her hair is looking like  _this_.

Her eyes never leave his, and he takes a drink from the flask while enjoying the show. His mind doesn't even acknowledge the rum burning his throat, because she chooses that time to step up the teasing a little bit more.

Her fingers move to the hem of the tanktop and she pulls the fabric up slowly, until her belly button is exposed to his hungry eyes. Then she moves closer, stepping into the triangle-shaped space between his thighs. Her hands go to his shoulders for support, and his left fist clenches when she raises one of her legs, her knee brushing his crotch for a couple of seconds. She's also leaning towards him and blowing gently into his ear in the process. He has to close his eyes for a moment in order to grasp at his self-control.

Smirking lightly like the vixen she is, Eleanor stands upright again, both her feet back on the floor so she could resume her enticing dance.

She's within his reach now, dancing between his parted legs, teasingly pulling at the fabric of the tank top to reveal some more skin. And stopping just as her breasts were about to be exposed, intensifying his frustration and desire.

And things only get worse.

_"We took you out from_

_Your mother's womb_

_Our temple, your tomb"_

His eyes narrow as she begins to very lightly touch herself, running her fingers over her neck, then down her chest and stomach, her eyes falling closed while those perfect pink lips parted just a little.

His gaze follows closely as her fingers tease around the waistband of her satin shorts and he  _prays_  she'll get rid of the garment... but then her hands are traveling up her sides again, her eyes opening to meet his as she fondled her own covered breasts softly.

_"Poisonous... blood..."_

Charles feels he's getting drunk, drunker than he's ever been in his two lives, and it has absolutely  _nothing_  to do with the rum from his newly acquired flask.

He almost protests when she steps away from the chair, but then she's opening the shelf where he keeps his cigars, and he realizes her intentions.

Some of the lust gives space to curiosity, he wonders if she'll be able to light it on her own.

And she does, just like he taught her. Pride swells in his chest, but he's soon overtaken by desire again. The sight of her, dancing sensually, smoking one of his cigars while touching her own body lightly with her free hand... The only word he can find to describe his current situation is  _paradise_.

He had  _no_ idea she could dance like this, move like this... Damn it all to hell, she could put Shakira herself to shame.

Keeping the smoke in her mouth, she hands the cigar to him. Then she leans in, her hands on his knees as she blows the smoke into his face slowly. His lips part to receive it, and she grants him the briefest of kisses before stepping away again.

_Finally_ , when he takes a real drag from the cigar, she pulls the tanktop over her head and throws it aside.

Her pale skin and blond hair look ethereal, illuminated by what little moonlight managed to seep in through the curtains, and the faint glow from the candles.

She may look like an angel, but she most certainly does  _not_  behave as one.

Gracefully dancing herself back into the triangle made by his open legs, she stands with her back to him, swaying her hips to the creepy, mystic sound, and he just can't stop himself from reaching out squeeze her ass through the satin shorts. She lets him, so he leans closer and surprises her with a bite to the soft skin of her back.

This delicious little gasp leaves her lips, and in the blink of an eye she's turning around and straddling his right leg. His free hand squeezes her arm as she grinds lightly against his thigh, he can see the pure lust in her eyes too.

The thick smoke from the cigar surrounds them, some of it dissipating in the air between them while they stare in each other's eyes in an oh so familiar challenge. She swallows hard when he brings the cigar to his lips.

Her right hand slides over his exposed chest, and she grabs the flask from one of the armrests.

His eyes widen only briefly as she pours some rum on her breasts.

And Charles wastes no time.

_"We go out in the morning_

_Down the trail_

_To somewhere"_

Maybe he was only supposed to lick her skin clean, but he can't stop himself from capturing one of her nipples between his teeth, his tongue circling it just the way she likes.

He's rewarded with a shaky whisper of his name that surely escaped against her will, but he's forced to let her go when she moves to get to her feet again.

And Charles can't take it anymore.

But just as he's extinguishing the cigarette on the ashtray built into one of the armrests, she gets rid of the satin shorts.

His jaw drops at the sight. Just as he suspected, she wasn't wearing  _any_  sort of underwear tonight.

Before he can do anything else, she's straddling his lap again. This time wearing nothing but the bee necklace he had stolen for her back in LA.

_"You are the sound that I hear"_

It seems her self-control is also hanging by a thread by now, she's keeping eye contact and undulating her hips erotically, as if she's still dancing for him, and he mentally curses his bermuda shorts for keeping him from feeling her completely.

_"You are the sound that I hear"_

She's dipping her head, nibbling at his earlobe and giving it a casual lick... Then her lips travel down his neck, her right hand going down his chest, his stomach...

_"We're not standing"_

A low, predatory growl leaves his throat when she lets her fingers skim over the bulge in his bermuda shorts, her breathing becoming ragged, and they both know that the time for teasing is over.

_"We're falling"_

He practically jumps to his feet, and she wraps her legs around his hips instinctively. Their desperation is palpable, so he only makes it as far as a few steps.

Thankfully, the desk was right there.

His lips are attacking her neck as soon as he sets her on the wooden surface, the sharp little moans he lives for escaping her as his hands grasped at the skin of her back, moving to her breasts and every inch of creamy white skin he could reach.

The song is reaching its climax, those sinister " _wooo's_ " echoing around them in the cabin, mixing with his groans and her desperate whimpers as they both fumbled to get rid of that final barrier between them.

And as soon as they succeed, he's slamming home.

It seems the little teasing session has taken a huge toll on her as well, she's absolutely soaked, and the delicious heat nearly makes him come immediately.

_Not inside,_  his brain somehow sobers up enough to remind him, and this allows him to reign in his arousal.

Never will he get over how good she feels, how he seems to fit perfectly,  _always_.

The song starts again, but they barely notice. He kisses her deeply, hips moving slowly. It's not nearly enough for either of them, but all her teasing has had quite the effect on him and he wants to last...

"Harder..."

Who is he to deny her anything?

Growling, Charles jerked his hips into hers, hard. It makes her cry out, pleasure clear as day on her perfect face while he kept going. Skin slapped against skin as he took her with rough, deep strokes. He doesn't doubt people could hear her screams from the beach, but it's not like anyone but them matters right now.

One of her arms goes around his neck and she holds on for dear life, digging the nails of her free hand into the skin of his lower back, her legs still wrapped around his hips. She always had the ability to bring it out in him; this raw,  _feral_  desire to possess her, to consume her, to brand her as his for just a short while.

_"...your mother's womb..."_

This urge is even stronger in this life, after the married time she shared with that bastard.

_"...your tomb..."_

He needs to erase the governor's touch from her body completely.

_"...the poisonous... blood..."_

She's just holding on, letting him use her body however he saw fit. The song is coming to an end again, which means a little over five minutes must have passed. His release is coiling tighter in his gut but he wants her there with him and he always lasts much longer-

"Let go." The firm, resolute command sends a shiver down his spine and he growls. "Night is ours. It's okay."

She's barely able to get the words out, but she understands what her teasing session did to him and for some reason, this brings him even closer to the edge. He knows there's no turning back now.

_"You are the sound that I hear"_

"Don't pull out." Her breathy request comes out so suddenly, and his confused eyes meet hers. She shakes her head. "Not fertile for the next week- just don't."

Her eyes fall closed for a moment, her nails probably breaking through his skin.

"Please, I miss it... I miss you..."

_"...not standing..."_

His brain is screaming that he ignores her words, every rational thought urging him not to-

"Please,  _captain_ -"

He would've been unable to say no, even if he wanted to.

_"We're falling"_

His loud groan of pleasure resounds in the cabin along with the howls from the song and instead of pulling away, he just holds her flush against his body, burying his face in her hair.

.

_Finally._

The feeling of that warm essence filling her again after almost three long months is more than enough to bring the waves of her climax crashing over her too, hard, impetuously, mercilessly, and the force of it almost scares her.

For a moment, the only word she's able to formulate is his name.

It's the only thing that leaves her lips, in shaky little whispers, and she keeps holding on to him as they both come back from their high, slowly, just like the song easing down to its ending after that explosion of sounds, screams, howls and blowing horns.

Their timing couldn't possibly have been more perfect.

It was almost magical.

They hold on to each other, simply breathing and trying to recover. Her hands stroke his back lovingly as he keeps his face buried in her hair. He's almost vulnerable, she could probably reach for his knife and kill him right now.

_If she wanted to._

Soon, he straightens up again, and the look in his eyes lets her know he's far from done with her.

His next words only confirm that.

"Bunk. All fours."

His voice, still a little breathy, is already enough to send a delicious shiver down her spine.

A smile plays on her lips, and she leans in to whisper in his ear.

"Yes, captain."

Charles squeezes her waist, probably battling with his self-control, before disconnecting their bodies and letting her go.

She's well aware of his eyes on her while she follows his order, not at all uncomfortable with being submissive. It doesn't hurt to do this from times to times... She's actually coming to enjoy it.

But she still loves to take control and tease him senseless, like she did a few minutes ago.

The feeling of his seed sliding down her inner thighs makes her smile like a giddy teenager. Fuck, how she missed this.

Just as she's doing as he requested, there's the sound of one of the shelves of his desk opening and closing.

Her heart skips a beat.

Did he just retrieve-

Her thoughts are interrupted when she feels the rough material touching her back.

"What's this, Eleanor?"

_God, that voice._

She swallows hard.

"The rope-"

The hard slap to her ass makes her gasp out in surprise, and he grabs a handful of her hair. Her stomach is doing somersaults as he leans in, biting her shoulder.

"The noose."

Her eyes widen briefly and for a split second she tries to follow the instinct to move away.

But then she remembers that this is  _Charles_ , and that she actually  _enjoyed_  this experience the last time.

He waits for a moment, probably making sure this was okay with her. She reassures him with a barely perceptible nod of her head. A second later, he pulls her hair out of the way. Her breath catches as he places the noose around her neck.

"If it becomes too much, just raise two fingers. I promise to loosen the rope immediately, alright?"

His voice comes out a little softer when he says those words, and her heart swells with love. His concern about her safety and well being is touching, especially considering what they're about to do, considering their past...

"Okay."

Briefly, it amazes her. How much progress they have made, how much she trusts him now.

She's practically putting her life on his hands right now, and she's  _not_  scared.

Thinking about this makes her smile softly. Then her mouth parts in a silent oh. He's suddenly inside her again and the rope tightens around her neck gradually, as he increases the pace of his thrusts.

There's no song playing anymore, just the waves, the creaking wood and those sinful sounds leaving his lips.

Just like the first time, she feels uncomfortable at first. But the rush, the meaningfulness of the moment, the  _sensations_  combine to make her relax enough so she can enjoy their little game. She tries angling her head to glance back at him, but the rope is already tight enough to make it near impossible. All she gets is a brief glimpse; his blue eyes filled with passionate fire and awe, the end of the rope wrapped around his right hand as he held it tightly, pulling a little bit harder every few seconds.

The noose is cutting off enough air that she needs to focus on her breathing, and she would have never thought this could be so  _hot_. It's as if every sensation gets intensified, and she suddenly wishes so freaking much that Woodes could see them like  _this_. With the rope and everything, how she wishes she could see the look on his face when-

The thrusts get more violent, the way she likes, and all thoughts of her ex-husband fly out the window immediately.

She's not sure how much time has passed, but when the noose tightens even more, she knows he's losing control. Instead of scaring her, this turns her on even more, and when his free hand snakes around her waist from behind, sliding down her stomach, his fingers easily finding her swollen clit, she's finished. If it wasn't for that rope suffocating her, she would have screamed loud enough even for those Spanish bastards to hear, all the way from their estate in the heart of the island.

Just as she's coming down from her high, she notices that her lungs are burning. There are tears on her face, she's not sure if they're due to the intense orgasm or the fact that she can't breathe, and she's about to raise the two fingers, desperate for air, when that familiar liquid warmth fills her again.

He actually growls out her name, pulling her flush against him as they both collapsed onto the mattress, her back pressed to his front as he rode out his release, biting and kissing her neck, shoulders...

_She can't breathe._

Her hands instinctively fly up to her neck, and this brings him back to reality at once.

Immediately, he's working at loosening the rope, and she breathes in sharply as soon as she can. That's when he sees the tears on her cheeks. Concern fills his eyes.

"You're hurt."

Still catching her breath, Eleanor just shakes her head at first. But as soon as she's able to speak, she brings her hands to his face.

"No. Promise."

He doesn't seem to believe her answer, and she offers him a soft smile. "Remember... when you were teaching Davina that... people can cry out of sadness  _and_ happiness?"

He inspects her neck, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin tenderly. It makes her heart flutter.

"You didn't hurt me. I can assure you, those tears that escaped... They had  _nothing_  to do with pain."

He stares into her eyes for a moment before sighing and nodding his head. The loosened rope is still around her neck, and they make no move to get rid of it. Their bodies seek one another automatically and they're soon making out again in the safety of their bunk. Round three begins shortly, but it's gentle, slow and as calm as possible this time. And only when they're done, Charles removes the noose from around her neck, throwing it to the wooden floor. His arms wrap around her waist right after, and her hand seeks his anchor pendant as usual.

They're both covered in sweat, but nothing else matters right now.

He glances at the chair, remembering the dance, and his curious eyes meet hers.

"Who taught you-"

"Idelle."

_Jesus_ , he'll have to thank that woman a thousand times when they're reunited... He'll do anything.

Something comes to his mind, and he narrows his eyes at her.

"How  _exactly_  did she teach you, honeypot?"

She just keeps his stare for a few moments, then huffs adorably in defeat.

"By practice..."

His laughter fills the cabin, and she rolls her eyes.

"When did that happen?"

"Long time ago... I didn't even know you- in this life, I mean. I was saving this for an important occasion." There's this glint in his eyes and he's clearly deep in thought, this half smirk on his lips. She raises an eyebrow.

"What's that face? Are you-" His smirk grows and Eleanor slaps his shoulder. "Are you  _picturing_  that scene in your head right now?"

"Can you blame me?"

She stops to think about his words, remembering her lessons... how the dark haired beauty would dance just for her, teaching her...

She'd be lying if she said there was no urge to have some fun with the girl, back then.

"She  _is_  attractive." Eleanor bends, and he mutters what sounds like " _fine body_."

Surprisingly, it doesn't make her jealous. Not anymore, at least. She knows that  _her_  body is his drug of choice, after all.

A playful glint comes to her eyes instead, as she traces invisible patterns on his chest.

"Too bad... I don't think Featherstone would let us borrow her, even for one night."

His chuckle makes her smile widen.

"You're all I need... My very own professional dancer. But if I'm disappointing you, we could find another girl. Too bad Max is taken too. Anne would kill us if we tried."

She knows he's joking, so she doesn't even bother with answering.

She may like girls too, but he's more than enough for her, he'll always be more than enough, and they both know that.

"So, it was okay? I assume you've received your fair share of lap dances over the years..."

There's a hint of jealousy in her tone, and he presses a reassuring kiss to her lips.

"None could compare to yours."

He's staring at her as if she's a precious jewel, reaching to brush her hair behind her ear gently. "That was your first time?"

She just nods, and he frowns briefly.

"Unbelievable, if you ask me."

"Well, it was."

"So you never did something like that... for him?"

She has to laugh.

"Believe me, even if I had tried..." Shaking her head, she heaves a sigh. "Things with him were... awfully plain. He was conservative and... proper. Too  _civilized_ , as he would say."

"Must have been boring as hell."

"God, but it was. Just another reason for me to regret my choices..." Moving even closer to his body, she tangles her legs with his. "After all... I was  _never_  bored with a certain pirate captain."

He responds by kissing her lips again, then his eyes go to the wooden ceiling and she settles for admiring his profile until he speaks again.

"You couldn't possibly have picked a better time of our past to fix."

"Why is that?"

"Remember what I used to tell you? About how I had no clue on my birthday... That was a lie." Meeting her eyes, he shrugs. "The day I came back from that hunt, the day you ended things between us."

" _Charles_."

" _That_  was my birthday. Now, I don't remember the date, because it was after that occasion I chose to forget it altogether. Over the years, I succeeded."

The revelation has left her stunned. She doesn't know what to say. And now, she feels even worse about what she did to him.

"I don't remember the date either... Sorry I ruined your birthday back then."

Charles scoffs at her words, shaking his head dismissively.

"Never cared much for it. I was going to suggest something, though. When I went to your office. I was going to reveal what day it was. And to make an invitation... I wanted you to come sailing with me. We wouldn't even have to go too far, I knew it would make you antsy, the thought of leaving the island behind... But it would have been a nice gift, if you accepted to spend the occasion with me on the ship. Just one day and one night, it was all I was going to ask... But then I found you with that serious look on your face, pain shining in your eyes although you trying hard to mask it... You know the rest."

There's the brief sting of tears in her eyes, and she's suddenly so grateful to have him here with her...

"It still brings me such pain, remembering that day... I actually cried myself to sleep for a whole week. God, I hated myself for that. I felt so fucking weak, but as soon as the candles were extinguished and I was in bed, alone... The tears simply kept coming. I couldn't help it."

"I was too drunk to know whether I shed any tears or not. But it was a dark week for me too."

"I know..." Moving to kiss his lips, she swallows hard. "I know it was."

"It's okay now. We're okay." He tries to reassure her, holding her closer and using the calm voice that acts as a soothing medicine for her. It always works wonders.

Wanting to lighten the mood, he glances at the map. It's now on the floor, thanks to their frenzied activities on the desk earlier.

"Inverness?"

She smiles against the skin of his neck. "Madi and I used to read a story, before I met you. There's even a show about it nowadays. Outlander. The place seemed interesting to me."

"What is it about?" He asks, glad to see his strategy worked. She's happy again.

"Time travel..." She begins, locking their fingers together. "A love so strong, so powerful... That it managed to break the barriers of time and space."

"Sounds interesting. And  _familiar_."

She tries to hide her smile. But he sees it. He also sees the blush that tinges her cheeks briefly.

"I'll take you to Inverness, then. If it will make you happy."

Her eyes fill with mischief and she props herself up on an elbow, hovering above him. Her hair tickles his chest.

"Then... call me lass. No, no, better yet: call me...  _Sassenach_."

This bullshit makes no sense at all to him, but it must have something to do with that story she read.

And oh well, what wouldn't he do to see that woman smile?

"I will take you to Inverness, Sassenach."

He's rewarded with her bright smile, and she chuckles briefly before kissing his lips. He uses the opportunity to pull her back down by his side, shaking his head at her silliness.

Who would've ever thought they would one day share such moments... Such easy,  _perfect_  moments.

"This feels really nice, you know? Not having to worry about dawn... Knowing our time together is not limited anymore. Whenever you had to leave my room, back in the mansion... I felt so cold. Lonely. And I always feared you wouldn't come back." The confession catches him off guard. "At the time I couldn't understand... You probably had had so many women. Far more experienced. And yet, you said you'd be unable to stay away, once you had the first taste of me. Remember? That was right after our first time, in this life... I thought you were just messing with me, at first. Then you gave me your number in the morning. And you came back when night fell. You came back. Again, and again, and again. You just came back, for me."

"I got addicted." Is his simple, but truthful answer. And it makes her smile.

" _Again_ , huh?"

He rolls his eyes at her teasing tone, and there's silence for a while.

Until she laughs, and he looks at her in question.

"What?"

"Speaking of our amnesia days... Do you remember? I was  _so_   _jealous_  of Idelle."

He raises an eyebrow, throwing her own words back at her.

" _Again_ , huh?"

"Don't you dare."

"You were. All that anger, when you went to the fort. It wasn't brought on solely by my...  _truancy_." His thumb strokes her lower lip. "No... You were jealous as fuck"

"So what if I was?"

His smirk widens.

"Now, was that so hard to admit?"

A mumbled " _asshole_ " leaves her lips, and he scowls.

"How is she, by the way? Idelle. After what happened..."

"I spoke to her the other day. Called her from the hill. She's fine... Still healing, but she's doing well." Eleanor scoffs, shaking her head. "Who would've ever known I would actually miss her. I miss our stupid conversations, her stupid teasing remarks, and the stupid look she gives me to make me mad."

"She's a good person."

"We'll make him pay, right?" She sounds eager, and he meets her eyes. "Low. We'll make him pay for what he did to Idelle."

"Of course. And I don't want that bastard living in the same world as my sister. So while he's breathing, I won't stop. He'll regret he was born again."

"Now I feel like watching you fight. It's...  _interesting_."

Is she trying to inflate his ego until it bursts or what?

"It was hot."

_There she goes again..._

"What was hot?"

She smirks wickedly at him, fingers stroking the muscles of his abdomen. "Watching you... Beat the shit out of Woodes. I keep replaying that scene in my head. And I feel this urge, to watch you hurting him again."

_Yeah, she'll be the death of him._

"This is why I want him to find us. Sooner or later."

"If that day ever comes... You know you can't kill him."

He scowls at her, fingers squeezing her arm. "Why the hell no?"

"We would never know peace again. We would need to live on the run."

She does have a point. That bastard has family and influence back in LA.

Sighing heavily, he takes her hand in his again. "Let's just deal with that when the time comes. We'll figure something out. But I promise you won't have to live on the run. You have a home, and it's where you should stay."

"With you."

His heart swells with the deepest love. Nodding, he squeezes her hand gently under the blanket.

"With me."

Exhaustion catches up to them and before they know it, they're closing their eyes and drifting off to dreamland in each other's arms.

Just before sleep claims him, Charles hears her perfect, tired voice in his ear.

"Happy birthday, Captain."

* * *

**Phuket**

Their leader was very clear.

They were supposed to keep their eyes and ears open for  _any_  talk about the island. And that's exactly what they did.

Sharing a look with his friend, the pirate smirks.

They managed to find one of the members from that shady ass community, and they're currently holding the man hostage in the bowels of the ship, awaiting their leader's return.

The guy they found is pretty weak, so they were already able to tear some answers from him. They're thirsty for some progress, some new experiences.

"Please..." Their prisoner begs again. He has an Australian accent. "Just tell me why I'm here. I'll cooperate, all I beg is for you to have mercy and let me keep my life-"

"You should save the drama and bargaining for when our leader gets here. Don't waste all your energy now."

The other pirate laughs at his friend's words, and their weak little mouse of a prisoner is actually trembling in fear already. They're eager to see how this ridiculous excuse of a man will react when faced with  _him_.

Poor little Australian will probably piss his own pants.

"W-what's his name? What should I call him?"

The two pirates share a look, and the older one shrugs.

Staring their prisoner in the eyes and crossing his arms over his chest, he grins proudly.

"You may call him  _Teach_."

* * *

**Shih Island**

He only slept for two hours. As soon as he opened his eyes, all Charles wanted was to fuck her again, but she was sleeping so peacefully that he didn't have the heart to wake her up.

So he settled for drinking on his chair, staring at the locations she had marked on his map again.

Charles had been analyzing the cigar case and the flask when he felt her eyes on him. After waking up fully, she got to her feet and walked over to him. He held out his arm in invitation and she gladly settled on his lap. They were both still naked, and for a few minutes they just shared the flask and studied the map in silence.

Until his body started reacting to her proximity and she got off his lap, lowering herself until she was kneeling on the wooden floor in front of his chair, between his legs, unceremoniously taking him into her mouth. It lasted for maybe six minutes, and then he was forcing her to her feet, picking her up from the floor and slamming her against the ladder that led up to deck.

She'd hold on to the rungs, to his shoulders, her head thrown back in ecstasy, and he couldn't get enough of the sight.

Again, she begged him not to pull out, and again, he was unable to deny her what she wanted.

Which brings them to their current situation, they're trying to catch their breath, and he has her trapped between his body and the ladder.

Not that she has a word of complaint.

He's still inside her, and her eyes dance as he admires her perfect face.

An idea hits him.

"How do you feel about a night swim?"

Her bright smile is the only answer he needs.

* * *

Maybe it's only in her head, but the stars seem to be shining so much brighter tonight.

Charles said it's around one in the morning, she could see the camp was shrouded in darkness when they went up on deck, so everyone back at the beach is probably asleep.

The idea was for them to go swimming, but they can't leg go of each other. His arms are tight around her waist, hers are around his neck, and he easily keeps them afloat. The night air is chilly, but the water is warm as usual. She's grateful for that.

Just as she looks away from his face, glancing up at the sky, a smile forms on her lips.

"Make a wish." He says, and she realizes that he saw the shooting star too. It reminds her of their first night in Teach's cabin. Back then, there was nothing she could have wished for.

_This time, there is something._

"I wish a certain someone would finally forgive me."

He doesn't answer, but it's not like she expected him too. It doesn't hurt so much, their night is going so perfectly well that nothing can ruin her happiness.

Playing with a few strands of his wet hair, Eleanor chuckles lightly. She remembers one night months ago, back in Somalia. Anne, Jack and her were watching Davina on the beach, and there was a shooting star. Of course, the little girl immediately started asking questions.

_"What's a shooting star, aunt Anne? Why do they fall from the sky?"_

_Jack seemed about to explain, even if the question wasn't directed at him, but Anne was faster._

_"They're not stars, kid. They're just the cigarettes angels throw away when God comes to check up on them."_

_"Anne!"_

Smiling, Eleanor replays the conversation in her mind. Jack did give Davina a correct explanation about shooting stars, adapting his language in a way the child would understand, but Anne's story about cigarettes and angels was what stuck. Davina liked it better. The thought of angels smoking cigarettes like her big brother had her in awe.

That made Mary insane.

Once again, she's amazed to think about her new life.

Her new family.

Who would've ever thought she would one day be watching shooting stars with Charles' little sister, Jack Rackham and Anne Bonny? And calling them her  _family_?

Who would've ever thought she would have so many people waiting for her at home, people who loved her for just what she was? It's all thanks to  _him_.

"I took a lot from you too." He says suddenly, and she frowns.

_No, you didn't._

Her father's death was good riddance, she's able to see it now, but she probably won't ever be ready to admit it out loud.

"You've given me a lot. You gave me freedom. You gave me my tavern... You gave me a family. Not a distorted lie, not an illusion... A real family." She laughs briefly, pressing a kiss to his lips. "It's messed up as fuck, but it's a real family. Right now, I could be married to him again, staying near my father... But I'm not. Because you took me home, so our new life could start. And those who truly love me, they followed us."

"About Jack and the people waiting for us back home... What classifies them as a  _real_  family, in your eyes?"

She doesn't have to think for too long.

The words simply tumble from her lips.

"Their love doesn't have to be earned." Despite her best efforts, saying those words brings tears to her eyes. "They just care about me and that's final. I don't have to beg for crumbs. I don't have to torture myself, in order to gain their approval. I don't have to slaughter my own dreams and feelings, just so they'll put an arm around my shoulders and hold me close."

His thumb wipes away her tears and she regains her composure, taking a deep breath.

"They all love you. Jack does too. Even Anne is warming up to you." Eleanor smiles at his words, and he tilts his head to the side a little. "That reminds me... I saw the two of you  _bantering_  the other day. What was that?"

She laughs, shaking her head at the memory. "I went to ask her what should I give you, for your birthday. She suggested... Well,  _this_. Moments, fixing other pieces of our past. And just as I was leaving, she said that... I was free to come ask her for advice anytime. And that she wouldn't bite... Unless I wanted her to."

Charles raises an eyebrow. And then his laughter puts a stupid smile on her face.

He's laughing a lot tonight, and she's proud to know it's all thanks to  _her_.

"Now  _that_  would be enough to make any man crazy; the two of you. I see the way most men look at you and her, when you're together. Natural blonde, natural redhead, both fiery as hell..." He trails off, a wicked glint in his eyes.

Raising her chin, she leans in closer, locking her hands together at the nape of his neck.

"Thought you didn't like to share."

"I  _don't_. I'm just saying the truth."

"She  _is_  hot as hell, I admit it. But Jack is my friend."

He chuckles, and just as they're done joking, he suddenly pulls her closer to the rock formations near the strait. Somehow, she trusts him enough to follow him underwater. It's dark, they can't see a thing, so she holds on tight to his hand, letting him guide her. But still, panic begins to rise in her when her lungs start begging for oxygen.

Soon, however, they're emerging again.

And she doesn't see the ship, the strait, or the beach anymore.

He has led her into a secret air pocket.

There's a small stretch of dry sand right in front of them, and they swim up to it. There's also illumination, strangely, and Eleanor soon realizes why.

Looking up, she sees an opening high above their heads, like the mouth of a volcano.

This little secret place has her in awe, and she just has to kiss him.

To thank him for sharing this with her.

Soaked in saltwater, and already free from any clothes, they lose themselves in each other again. Time seems to stop, a chorus of breathy groans, sharp moans and whispered praises echoing through the place.

And when he explodes inside her for the fifth time tonight, her eyes are glued to what she can see of the starry sky above.

There's such peace... There's such  _happiness_.

She has absolutely no idea where it comes from.

* * *

**Phuket**

The sight is pitiful.

That skinny young man cowering in the corner, in the bowels of his ship. Wood creaks all around them, and the giant crosses his arms.

He's certain they will get every single answer they need, without too much effort.

Most of the headquarters was lost. Damaged beyond repair. The medical center, his office, and the sleeping quarters were the only places unharmed by the fire and the explosions. He also lost most of his men.

And they have no money to fix things for now.

Miss Guthrie did him the favor of sinking the ship they used on hunts as she was leaving his burning kingdom behind, after all.

His jaw clenches but he tries not to think about  _that_.

God only knows where she could be right now. God only knows when or even  _if_  he'll ever see his nephew again.

But he knows that the bullet -  _the bullet that was meant for Eleanor_  - didn't kill Charles, so that's good enough for him. For now. He'll try to track the Ranger down later, but there are a few more pressing matters he needs to solve first.

Of course he has heard about the island. He did keep tabs on Ching for years. He knows about her activities, about the Spaniards, about their illegal business.

All he needs is the exact location.

They don't have the means to hunt anymore, so he needed to find another source of income.

Illegal cannabis cultivation and traffic seems like a good way to rise to the top again.

And as a plus, he'll have his revenge.

He heard the rumors. The Spaniards are getting tired of Ching, but they can't do anything for now because she takes care of shipping their goods. She takes care of each and every issue that comes up.

And he'll be kind enough to solve that problem for the farmers. He'll be more than happy to knock that crown off of her head, to snatch her away from her throne and take her place.

He'll get the income he needs, while also destroying that cold hearted cunt once and for all. She will pay for what she did, she will pay for leading his enemies to Naomi, she will pay for keeping him from raising Charles.

That Asian bitch and her stupid community have no idea what awaits them.

"In three weeks time..." He begins, walking closer to the cowering Australian. "...you will be leading me and my men to the island. I don't want  _her_  to be alerted of my presence, so you better not guide us anywhere near the bay where she rules. Is that clear?"

It takes the poor bastard a while to find his voice. "I-I'll do anything to keep my life."

Teach has to chuckle at his words. "Very well then. My men will keep you fed and alive in exchange for your help, so you have nothing to fear from us. I will see you in three weeks."

With that, he turns his back to the Australian, walking out of the room and locking the heavy wooden door behind him.

Two of his men are waiting for him, and he gestures at the door over his shoulder. "Keep him alive and try not to scare the poor sap too much... for now. But be ready to get rid of the body as soon as he has served his purpose. I can't take any risks."

"Yes, sir." The men say in perfect unison, but he's already walking away.

Reaching the captain's quarters, he gets rid of his leather coat. The red marks marring his arms make him clench his jaw hard.

His business with the Spaniards will restore him to his previous glory, he knows it. Soon, his kingdom will be up and running once more.

And that's when he'll hunt the governor down too, and miss Guthrie will be next in line.

He feels it in his bones, he's darker than he's ever been before. All of those who wronged him, they will pay. Starting with the woman who has cost him so much.

Even if this is the very same woman he once sworn to love with his whole heart.

* * *

**Shih Island**

Back in the safety of their cabin, of their bunk, they stare in each other's eyes in peaceful silence.

Charles can't believe how much she has given him in just one night. He's still in awe, and the blonde angel/devil in his arms moves to kiss his lips in a loving gesture.

They're both spent, their bodies more sated than ever.

_Their hearts and souls more connected than ever._

He can't stop himself from saying the words. And to his amazement, she says it too, in perfect sync with him.

**I love you.**

They both said it at the same time, and it's not scary anymore. It's not humiliating.

It's just  _pure_ , and it feels  _right_.

Their smiles don't vanish, not even faltering as they finally fall asleep in each other's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song "The Wolf" is by Fever Ray, if anyone's interested, and it's AMAZING, so go listen to it right now. You won't regret it ;) lol


	51. Blessing

**Shih Island**

With a huge grin on her face, Eleanor sits down on the sand, grateful for the shadow of the palm tree. Jack stares at her with a knowing half smirk, chuckling at her good mood and unusual behavior as she greets him with a kiss to his cheek.

"So how did it go, bright eyes?" He asks teasingly, handing her an already peeled mango, and she rolls her eyes. Her smile never falters through. "Come on, spill."

"He was angry, at first." The blonde begins, touching her sore neck. Even though it's been two days now, she can still feel the rope.

_Not that she minds it._

Pure affection flickers in Jack's eyes. She's sure he's grateful for everything she did for Charles.

"I can't even remember the last time I saw him in such a good mood... It seems to be permanent. What exactly did you give him?"

She looks away from his face, eyes going to the ship swaying gently in the waves near the strait.

"My open heart..." Still unable to stop smiling, she sighs happily and meets her friend's eyes again. "... _and_  a lap dance."

Jack laughs out loud at that, scratching the back of his head in a somewhat awkward gesture. "I see. Guess that explains his nice mood. And how are you feeling, my little hummingbird?"

She chuckles at him, taking a bite of the mango. He's been developing this habit, of coming up with as many nicknames as he possibly can, to annoy her. Hummingbird seems to be his favorite. According to him, it suits her because she always has to be so active.

"Sore? It's normal though-"

Her words are interrupted by Jack's rushed " _No's_ ", and she raises an eyebrow at the grimace on his face.

"That's  _not_  what I meant... You're used to repressing feelings, didn't it make you uncomfortable, treasure? Opening your heart and letting your walls down completely?"

Eleanor shrugs. She would be lying if she said no.

It did make her a little bit uncomfortable at first, everything she said, everything she did. From speaking about her feelings to showing such submission during their little game with the ropes.

But it was worth it, and she doesn't regret any of it.

She'd do it all over again, because  _he_ deserved it.

"I'm just fine now." She says truthfully, retrieving a piece of paper from the pocket of her shorts and staring down at the annotations, the days of the month, everything written and drawn by hand.

"What's that?"

"My calendar. So I can track my fertile time. It's supposed to begin in a week or so, my next fertility window. I'm saving my phone battery, but as soon as we're out of here I'll get an app. It's far more reliable, accurate and easier than writing everything on a piece of paper." She says without looking at Jack, frowning softly while analyzing the calendar. "How long can sperm survive inside a woman's body? Three to five days or something like that, right?"

"That's what they say, yes... I think. I'm not really sure. We should probably ask Max... Why exactly are you asking that question?"

His tone is suspicious and Eleanor remains silent, this little smirk tugging at her lips as she stares down at the piece of paper in her hands. He scoffs at her.

" _Seriously_?" Finally meeting his eyes again, Eleanor is honestly surprised to see the stern look on his face. "Did you forget your brain back in the 18th century or  _what_?"

Narrowing her eyes at him, she raises her chin in defiance. "Back in the 18th century... Charles and I used to rely on this very same method, so did you and Anne, I'm sure, and we were all just  _fine_."

Exasperated, he shakes his head at her. "Back in the 18th century neither you nor Anne ever took those little hormonal bombs that mess up your  _entire_  reproductive system!"

Shrugging dismissively, she looks at the ship again. "It's been two months."

"Still! You can't be taking any risks now, there is a war about to happen, in case you forgot."

"You're talking like Scott."

"Well,  _somebody_  has to!"

Chuckling at his excessive care and concern, Eleanor pats his shoulder.

"Jack. I'll be fine. You don't need to be my uterus surveyor." Getting to her feet, she raises an eyebrow in warning. "I know my own body, and I  _know_  what I'm doing, so shut up."

Her tone is light, but he knows that if he tries to talk about this with her again, she'll shut him out. So he stays silent, watching as she walked away. His eyes linger on her narrow waist, and he shakes his head.

How could she have been so careless? This is not like her at all. He supposes these two got lost in the moment, but that's no excuse for their carelessness.

_God, but he'll give Charles an earful for this._

Scowling, he rubs his forehead with a heavy sigh, eyes glued to the ocean.

"Damn it, kid... It's not that I don't want you, quite the contrary... But now is simply  _not_  the time."

Second time. It's the second time he catches himself talking to a niece or nephew that doesn't even exist yet.

_This island is messing with his brain._

Clicking his tongue in disapproval at himself and at the two idiots he calls his family, Jack gets to his feet.

His daily chores are waiting for him.

* * *

**Los Angeles**

His jaw clenches as he dodges yet another kick of these little feet, his son's screams giving him a familiar headache.

Making sure to hold the boy down so he couldn't sit up, he folds the dirty diaper and throws it in the trash bin, wasting no time to pull the front half of the clean diaper up to Aiden's stomach and fastening the adhesive tabs, making sure it was just tight enough. The baby is still crying at the top of his lungs so he's quick to get him dressed, picking him up and holding him to his chest right after.

"Shhh. It's okay, sport. All done." He tries, but it's all in vain.

The problem is  _him_ , after all, and Woodes should have known better than to take Aiden out with him, without Sarah's help.

He just wanted to prove it to himself that he could do this alone, but things are not going as he had planned.

With a heavy sigh, he places Aiden back in the stroller. And sure enough, the cries die down almost immediately.

Doing his best to ignore the judgmental looks from other parents, he puts all of the supplies back in the bag, getting ready to leave.

Then the door to the baby changing room opens and he sees a familiar face.

_Two_  familiar faces.

Theodore has grown considerably; it's the first thing he notices. If his quick calculations are correct, the boy should be around 1 year, 8 months old by now.

He's walking, holding his mother's hand, his hair way longer nowadays. He's identical to Alyna.

Seeing this child again makes a lump form in his throat.

He remembers the sight of Eleanor holding this boy in her arms as they walked through the gardens of Richard's mansion, a stolen moment of peace while dozens of guests mingled inside, the faint classic music still filling their ears and creating a soothing, romantic atmosphere.

He remembers about how Theodore fell asleep in Eleanor's arms, as they sat on that bench beneath the shelter of an old oak tree. He gave her a bracelet that night, an excuse for tracking her, because his suspicions and his concern for her well being were getting the best of him.

Then she went back inside, giving Theodore back to Alyna and disappearing from the party. According to her, she wasn't feeling too well. And he believed her back then, but nowadays he knows full well where she went. She didn't go to her room. She sneaked out of the mansion to be with Charles, that explains why the bracelet ended up lost in the city. They must have figured out what it really was, and the criminal probably got rid of it.

If it wasn't for that, he could still be tracking her right now.

"Mr. Rogers! Isn't this a pleasant surprise?" Alyna greets him, already extending her hand. As usual, the woman uses a flirtatious tone, wearing her best smile. He wonders how her husband never noticed. Whenever they meet, she tries to get his attention.

Theodore is staring up at him shyly as he slips into polite mode, forcing a smile and shaking hands with Alyna. This boy... This boy reminds him of happier times, when Eleanor was still safe and sound in LA, and right within his reach.

The dance they shared, this baby was in the mansion that night too.

He could never listen to "Heaven" again without feeling the sting of tears in his eyes.

Alyna's focus soon travels to the stroller, and she feigns concern upon seeing Aiden's bandages. "Oh no. What happened to his poor foot?"

"Home accident... He gave us quite the scare."

She chuckles at that, reaching to stroke Aiden's hair while Theodore watched, clearly jealous.

"He will still give you a lot of scares, believe me. Theodore almost gives us heart attacks from times to times. They're too curious for their own good, right?"

He nods, staring down at his son with a proud glint in his eyes. "Well, boys will be boys, I suppose."

"Indeed... Speaking of boys..." She smiles, stepping closer to him, and he knows what's on her mind. "...Maybe we could start arranging play dates for our kids? I think it would be good for them."

Forcing himself to keep the polite facade up, he nods and forces another smile. "Of course. Aiden could benefit from interacting with another child. He's... difficult."

"I heard him crying, I know what you mean. It gets better though, so don't worry. So... I'm free every day, as you know, I don't work. We could meet, so the boys can play... Maybe at a time when that lame ex-wife of yours isn't around?"

A smirk plays on his lips. This time, a real one. Sarah is getting on his nerves with that sick devotion of hers, maybe if she saw Alyna offering herself to him, it would actually help her wake the hell up.

He also can never pass up an opportunity to hurt her feelings.

_She deserves it, after all._

"That would be perfect... I still have your number. You can expect me to give you a call soon."

She beams at him, and he bids them farewell before walking out of the baby changing room.

Deep in thought, Woodes pushes the stroller through the mall. Aiden seems to have forgotten about who's taking care of him right now, shrieking excitedly at all those people and stores. His eyes drink it all in, and he coos to himself while trying to reach out for anyone who passed by them.

This boy really is too curious for his own good, and they're gonna be in deep trouble once he starts walking.

A teenage girl walks by with a Chihuahua in her arms just as they're about to leave the mall, staring at him as if he was Brad Pitt, and the annoying experience is only softened by the adorable " _bow-wow_ " that leaves Aiden's mouth when his eyes settle on the tiny creature.

Maybe he should buy a puppy, it could finally make his son warm up to him...

Too absorbed by his thoughts, he doesn't notice the middle-aged man coming the opposite way in the parking lot.

The exasperated individual is wearing a business suit, arguing with someone on the phone, too distract to pay attention to his surroundings too.

Only when he nearly stumbles on the stroller, Woodes comes back to reality and raises his head to shoot him a nasty look.

Coming face to face with Richard Guthrie.

At first, they just stare at each other in silence, and the older man ends his phone call.

It's the first time he sees this man after waking up from the coma. The first time, since his memories came back. And hatred is filling his heart.

_It's all his fault._

His fault that Eleanor felt the need to go seek comfort from Charles, his fault that his broken wife fell right into that animal's trap.

His fault she was taken from him,  _again_.

"Sir." He greets him coldly, and Richard glances down at Aiden for a split second before clearing his throat.

"I apologize for not visiting you at the hospital. Your father was my friend, I should have checked up on you. But life has been... chaotic."

He scoffs at the robot-like speech. Richard doesn't care about anyone but himself, and it's pathetic to watch his little show.

"But I trust your recovery is going well? I heard you are back to work already."

_Is he really going to act as if nothing happened?_

Woodes has no patience for his bullshit.

"Is that so? Have you also heard about how I spent  _months_  searching the Atlantic for my fiancee?"

Richard swallows hard, and he notices. For a few seconds, that asshole just tries to find the words to say.

"Son..." The older man begins, heaving a sigh and walking closer to him.

He just wants to strangle that bastard, if it wasn't for his baby in the stroller...

"She made her choice, and I am afraid she's digging her own grave."

He scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. This monster has the audacity of feigning sorrow...

"The last time I saw her, she was leaving the mansion with that criminal. On her own free will. There was nothing I could do to stop her, but there was  _nothing_  I wanted more. Don't be fooled, I wanted to keep her safe. But it was her own choice."

"I see you're completely clueless... Let me update you on your daughter's situation; She realized her mistake later on. And the criminal -  _Charles_ , by the way, his name is Charles - didn't let her go. During all this time... You had no contact with her whatsoever?"

He stalls. His mouth opens as if he's going to say something, but he seems to catch himself just in time.

Woodes narrows his eyes, reading his body language easily.

_That was suspicious as hell..._

"No. I haven't heard from her at all, ever since the day she turned her back on me and left the safety of our home behind."

_**She**  was the one to turn her back on you?_

He can't believe the nerve of this man...

He also can't believe all this coldness. The news had no effect on him at all.

"I just told you your daughter is being held captive by a dangerous criminal, God knows where... And you show no reaction."

Sighing heavily, Richard locks his fingers together in front of his body, raising his chin just like Eleanor used to do all the time.

"As I said... She dug her own grave. There is nothing else we can do for her."

"Yes, there is. I'm tracking Charles' ship down. Spreading spies all over the globe. I found out they made port in Cape Verde months ago, so I know he's keeping her alive and one day, I will receive a report with their exact,  _current_  location. You can be sure of it."

Something flickers in Richard's eyes, but it's so brief that he's unable to analyze it any further.

"Well, I honestly think you are just wasting your time."

Clenching his jaw, Woodes watches as he walks past them, heading to the entrance of the mall. A cruel smirk comes to his face, and he calls out to the older man.

"What's the matter with the Trading Company?" Richard stops in his tracks, shoulders tense. "I heard you're struggling. Is it true your siblings had to come all the way from London to save the business? They're living in the mansion now, aren't they? You're probably just watching from afar as they take care of everything."

Chuckling dryly, he keeps the businessman's eyes as he turns around slowly to face him again.

"How  _proud_  Joseph and Marion must be."

Richard clenches his jaw and his fists, clearly angry and embarrassed as hell.

For a moment, Woodes thinks he'll start swearing and attacking him with words, but if there's one thing he still admires about Richard Guthrie is his self control, his civilized behavior and his ability to maintain his class no matter what happens.

Still, his voice comes out strained when he finally speaks.

"Have a good day."

Knowing he managed to hit where it hurts, Woodes smirks in satisfaction.

"Likewise."

Just as the older man begins to walk away again, however, his amusement fades away.

For a brief moment in time, he's that man again, the law enforcement manager trying to gain the affections of an alluring girl, and building a friendship with her father to make things easier.

For a moment, all the hostility he feels towards Richard is gone.

"Sir." His voice lacks any aggressiveness now, and Richard looks at him again over his shoulder. "Not that I expect you to care... But I will bring your daughter home. Sooner or later, I  _will_. You have my word."

The older man stares at him for a few seconds, then nods slowly.

"I hope for your success." Glancing at the stroller again, he forces another one of his fake, polite smiles. "Congratulations on your boy."

* * *

**Nassau, Bahamas**

"I think I'm going to take her to that restaurant near Melissa's school. Next week, on my break." Elijah announces, surprising his twin at the counter. She jumps slightly, rolling her eyes at his obvious amusement. Sometimes he acts like a young boy, catching her by surprise and managing to startle her.

He's an idiot, but he's  _her_  idiot, and she wouldn't have him any other way.

Raising an eyebrow, she speaks in a teasing voice.

"A  _date_? Is Melissa  _finally_  going to have an auntie?"

Elijah gives her shoulder a light push, shaking his head.

"I enjoy her company, that's all. Caroline is a good person."

" _Uh-huh_." Olivia smirks at him, slapping his hand away as he tried to reach for a french fry on the tray she was preparing.

"Jesus, but you're impossible. Go back to your post, or I'll let Eleanor know about your truancy when she comes back."

He feigns a hurt look, then chuckles and leans in to press a kiss to his twin's forehead.

As he walks back to his post, already slipping into security man mode again, Olivia goes back to serving the tables.

Drunk people play darts and card games, all under the unwavering gaze of the tavern's substitute queen.

"Sometimes I still expect her to come in through one of these doors. Already being the boss and making me so proud."

Smiling warmly at the man leaning against the office doors by her side, Max nods at his words.

"She will, eventually... I miss her too. Terribly so, but she will come back to us."

"Do you think she's okay?"

"She's with  _him_. He will never let anything happen to her. He literally jumped in front of a bullet to keep her safe, remember?" Max tries to reassure him, but her own smile fades away when she sees the permanent, concerned look on his face. "What?"

Heaving a sigh, he looks away from the customers and meets her eyes. "Caroline's been having some bad dreams. She sees something... A threat to my girl's safety. And in the nightmares, Vane is nowhere to be seen."

Frowning, Max considers his words. She has a lot of respect for Caroline, she  _does_ , but it's still hard for her to take this sort of stuff seriously. Even though she has received more than enough proof, she's still in the process of learning to believe premonitions. Idelle is helping her.

"Maybe she just misses her, like we do... It's  _normal_  for her to be worried."

"Agatha has a certain degree of mediunic abilities... She senses something too." Scott falls silent, a somber look coming to his face. She knows he's visiting some old memories, and she waits to hear what he has to say. "When Eleanor was two, shortly after I started working at the mansion... There was a night when Agatha called me, desperate. She begged me to check the pool areas. Said she was feeling something  _dark_. As I approached the smaller one, the one Eleanor's balcony used to overlook... I heard her cries."

Her heart skips a beat, and she's already sure she won't like to hear whatever will come next.

Scott clenches his jaw, fury and hatred filling his eyes. It's a strange look for him.

"Richard was going to  _drown_  her. I arrived just in time."

Her mouth parts and she can't find the words to say. All she knows is that she feels so grateful for this man, for what he did.

_If it wasn't for him..._

"After that, I learned never to question my wife's sixth sense again. She always sensed whenever the girls were about to get sick too. She was  _always_  right."

Scowling, Max thinks about everything he said. She's definitely much closer to taking premonitions seriously now, but the last thing Scott needs is to be consumed with worry. He's not exactly young, and even though he's healthy, he's already doing half the management of this tavern on his own, and the success of this business never ceases to grow.

She can see how tired he is and to top it all off, his daughter is miles away, in a dangerous place.

The least she can do is try to ease his mind.

"This is the longest she's been away from you, right? It's been over eight months since the day they left this island. You're just worried about your daughter." She squeezes his shoulder reassuringly, trying to believe her own words too. " _Nothing_  will happen to Eleanor."

He sighs heavily, shaking his head. "I hope you're right."

Smirking proudly, Max goes back to watching the customers.

"Didn't anyone tell you? I am  _always_  right."

* * *

**Shih Island**

**10 days later**

Every time her former bodyguard looks at them, she can feel Charles' fingers squeezing hers.

It brings a smile to her face, and she's wickedly pleased about his jealousy.

They're in Shih's tent with the Russian, Jack, Anne, Virgil and Keswick, finally starting to talk about the impending war. During their time at the mainland, almost two weeks ago, they managed to find ten promising recruits. Two of the Spaniards came to the campgrounds to check up on the new members last week, and Eleanor wasn't too pleased about that.

Even though she was grateful not to see that disgusting pig, it was still a stressful situation.

Almost  _everything_  has been stressful lately, in truth.

She feels ready to snap, because Madame Shih has already made it very clear: the next mainland visit will be their last chance to expand this army. After that, they will have to act, and the freaky woman refuses to reveal too much of her plans for now.

She seems calm, but Eleanor knows better.

All she says is that " _if her plan works, violence will merely be their last resource_."

Eleanor wants to believe those words. She's  _not_  looking forward to watching Charles leave. To watch him getting ready to go fight those Spanish bastards.

Sometimes she still has nightmares about that damn gunshot wound and the coma,  _for fuck's sake_.

_If something happens to him and Anne..._

She remains lost in thought, strangely silent, all throughout their little meeting.

The air is unusually chilly when they finally leave the Asian's tent and she heaves a sigh while staring up at the sky and wrapping her arms around herself to help fight off the cold.

She's suddenly even more exhausted, too.

Crickets chirp from the jungle as she and Charles separate from the small group, heading off to the safety of their tent, not even saying a word to the others.

Once they reach their destination and the flap falls closed, finally isolating them from the rest of the community, she bites her lower lip.

All she wants is some sleep. But Shih's words are still fresh in her mind, and while the pirate pulls his hair loose, she turns her back to him, grabbing some clothes from her bag.

Warmer, more comfortable clothes.

Eleanor can feel his eyes on her as she changes, not turning back around to look at him, not even saying a word.

But as soon as she's done, a pair of strong arms wrap around her from behind.

"You know..." He pulls her flush against his chest. His  _warm_  chest. She can't help but sigh in pure satisfaction. "...Virgil has an eye for you."

"Tell me something I don't know." Letting out a brief, humorless chuckle, she strokes his right arm. It's touching her lower stomach, the familiar hard muscles helping her relax a little. "Don't kill him. He's one of our soldiers and we may have to fight."

She can feel him smirking against her skin as he drops a kiss to her shoulder. It makes her shiver, but then he's letting go of her and stepping away.

"Since you asked so nicely..."

A smile tugs at her lips, for a brief moment. Her eyes remain glued to him as he gets ready for bed too, removing what little clothing he had been wearing. It seems he never loses this habit of sleeping naked, no matter if it's hot or cold.

But then again, those muscles must do wonders to keep him warm.

Sighing heavily, she rubs her forehead in a pitiful attempt at soothing her killer headache, making a mental note of asking Jack for some medicine from his stash in the morning.

He's still awake, she knows she could go now, but she feels  _so ready_  to sleep for hours...

Charles watches her with a frown, finally stepping closer to the bunk.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm just exhausted. I've been exhausted all day. And there's this fucking headache."

The bastard smirks, even though she can see some worry shining in his eyes.

"Stress can do that."

Nodding, she watches as he settles on the bunk by her side.

There's been one constant concern in her mind for the past three days, and it's time she voices it.

For some reason, she can't stop thinking about Teach lately.

"There's someone out there who wants my head. What are we going to do? After this whole business with the Spaniards is over..."

"...Then I leave in search of my uncle." Charles says, interrupting her speech and giving her a look. " _Alone_."

She narrows her eyes at him, not liking that plan in the slightest, and he sighs heavily.

There's a haunted look on his face when he speaks again, this barely perceptible hint of grief in his tone. "Either he bends and gives me his word that he'll leave us alone... Or I'll have to  _deal_  with him."

She knows full well what he meant by that. And it's only the second time this subject is brought up.

Her chest tightens painfully, and she's speaking before she can think twice.

"I  _don't_ _want_  you to kill him."

He looks from the dirt ground to her face in pure disbelief.

For a couple of seconds, there's nothing but the sound of crickets chirping outside, and the waves breaking.

"It would be the only way to ensure your survival."

That confused frown never leaves his face, and she reaches for his hand without even realizing it.

"But this would haunt you forever. I don't want you to hurt yourself like this, I don't want you to  _suffer_  just so I can..." She trails off, surprised to feel the burn of tears in her eyes.

Why does she care so much? Is she worried for his safety? She shouldn't be, Teach would never hurt him, especially now that they actually share the same blood.

No, she just doesn't want him to be in pain, emotional pain, simple as that.

Now that she cares so much for his feelings, it's probably normal... But she can't help but feel as if this emotion is intensified, somehow. This conversation alone shouldn't be able to bring tears to her eyes.

"It's just not fair, Charles."

He watches her in silence for a few moments, eyes narrowing, clearly trying to decipher her...

"Who the hell are you, and what the  _fuck_  did you do to Eleanor?"

_He's mocking her?_

All her sympathy and concern is gone in the blink of an eye, pure anger replacing it, and she lets go of his hand with a scoff.

Her irritation is also intensified, but she blames the exhaustion for that.

"You know what, fuck you-" She spits the words at him, trying to move away, but he keeps her from doing so.

She just wants to slap that fucking, teasing smile out of his face, and he's grabbing a hold of her legs so she can't move. He has the audacity-

"Now... Don't go swinging moods like that. I was just messing with you."

Her irritation starts to dissipate just like that, that devoted look in his eyes never failing to make her heart flutter. No matter how angry she is, this lovesick idiot always manages to do this...

"We should really think about something else." She says in a quiet voice, Charles' eyes locked with hers as he drops a kiss to her left knee.

"Just let me be the one to deal with that, okay? He's  _my_  uncle. Let  _me_  decide what to do about him."

She wants to argue. She really does.

But she's simply too exhausted to do so.

"As long as you don't hurt yourself."

"I  _know_  what I'm doing, honeypot. Even if he has to die by my hand... Losing  _you_  would be a fate a thousand times worse."

She's touched by his words.  _So much more_  than she would like to admit.

Swallowing hard to keep her emotions under control, she voices yet another concern.

"And Woodes?"

Even though it's dark, she's still able to see his eye roll, and he lets go of her legs.

"We should really start thinking about that too. His silence is... unsettling. To say the least." She moves closer to the log wall, giving him space to lie down. That's what he does, and she remains sitting cross legged on the mattress, watching as he stared up at the ceiling of their shelter. "What we really need is an ally in someone who's close to him. To get some information."

"There's no one?" He asks, and she almost has an idea. But then she realizes it would be impossible.

"If only Mrs. Hudson remembered,  _if only_  I could drag her to my side..."

"Who's that?"

"His private investigator, in this life. She was the one who tried finding out your identity, before our memories came back. Remember? Right after our first time, I told you she was under Woodes' employment."

"And in the past...?"

Sighing heavily, she rubs her forehead again. "She just worked for us, look, I don't really want to talk about that time. My married time. I don't even want to think about it."

Charles considers her for a moment.

Then his eyes soften and he holds out his left arm. "Then just come here."

Unable to contain her smile, she nods, following his request.

Nestled against his side, the warmth of him surrounding her as he held her close, safely, she can feel all the tension beginning to evaporate. To vanish, like sand or saltwater slipping through her fingers.

Sleep is starting to overcome her already, but there's also his hand venturing under her loose sweater, and she knows what he wants.

Lifting her head from his chest, she meets his eyes with a raised eyebrow.

"Sorry, but  _no_. The only thing that seems appealing to me at the moment... is sweet sleep."

Instead of reacting in a negative way, he smiles at her. It's a mix of amusement, sympathy and adoration in his eyes, and she can't help but kiss his lips before resting her head on his chest again.

" _This_  is enough for me already." He says truthfully, holding her impossibly closer, and she sighs in delight.

"Hmm... Good."

In a matter of seconds, she's off to dreamland.

And Charles stays awake, staring up at the ceiling, fingers caressing her arm and shoulder through the fabric of her sweater.

Sometimes, he looks at what he can see of her face, feeling the soft, gentle movements of her chest as she breathed peacefully.

_"When you're lying awake at night, just so you can keep watching her breathe for hours on end... Isn't that a blessing?"_

Vasyl's words echo in his mind, and he can't contain his smile.

Yes, it  _is_  a blessing, and he wouldn't give this up for anything in the world.

Her questions from a few minutes ago come to his mind, and his smile falters.

He's not telling her... but once they're done here, his plans are to send her away to the chateau while he deals with Teach, and then he'll also find out where the governor stands. He'll find out what his plans are, even if he has to return to LA. Anne will follow him and help if shit goes down, he's certain.

In the meantime, he'll have Jack and Mary keep an eye on Eleanor and Davina, while he takes care of these two threats to their happiness.

He'll take care of everything, then go back to her and his sister as soon as the coast is clear and they're able to finally,  _finally_  go back home.  _Together_.

A sigh leaves his lips, his hand moving from her arm to her waist on its own accord. His fingers squeeze themselves between her body and his, her lower abdomen exposed by the sweater. And that's exactly where his hand settles, the feeling of her warm skin comforting his heart.

Sometimes he regrets convincing her to follow him all the way to Somalia. He had no idea they would stay away from home for so long.

But then again, it would have been worse if she had stayed behind.

Just to think about what could have happened if she was still in Nassau by the time Rogers went there...

That shit would have tried to take her back, she would have put up a fight, and he would have been on the other side of the globe, unable to protect her from that crazy bastard.

No, they followed the right path.

And damn, he will do anything to keep the treasure in his arms safe and sound...

_Even if she'll hate him for it._


	52. Manipulator

**Shih Island,** **05:00 AM**

The first thing she registers is the all too familiar feeling of that rough beard scratching her bare shoulder pleasantly.

Is it time to wake up already? But there's nothing but silence outside...

Eleanor opens her eyes briefly. It's still dark inside their tent, and she knows the sun has yet to rise. That explains the silence.

Then why did that  _idiot_ decide to wake her up?

"Rise and shine."

All Charles gets is a groan of annoyance and Eleanor reaches for the blanket, pulling it over her head and hoping it will be enough to make him leave her the fuck alone. His brief chuckle only makes her even angrier, and she would have rolled her eyes if they were open.

"Get up. We're going for a swim."

She just has to scoff, but remains unmoving.

"Whole fucking camp's still asleep."

"It's their loss... Do you hear that?"

She frowns, opening her eyes again.

Now that he mentioned it, she can actually hear something outside. Faint...  _Whistles_?

Squeaks, and what sounds like a creaking door... Her sleep muddled brain is unable to comprehend it properly.

"Birds? Just let me sleep."

Charles chuckles again, getting to his feet. She prays he's giving up.

_No such luck._

The blanket is suddenly gone, snatched away from her loose grip, and his audacity brings a huge, violent wave of anger crashing over her.

There's a murderous look in her eyes as Eleanor sits up on the bunk, glaring daggers at him. The infuriating little smirk on his face only makes things even worse as he stands there, naked, holding the blanket in his right hand and staring down at her.

"If you want to be hanged again, all you need to do is ask. I could  _definitely_  arrange that  _right now_." She speaks through gritted teeth, and Charles' amusement only seems to grow. The bastard is also appreciating the sight of her naked body, soulful blue eyes drinking it all in.

God, but he was born with the gift to enrage her.

_Again._

Wanting to ruin his fun, Eleanor jumps to her feet, shoving him out of the way harshly -  _though he hardly even stumbles, but she chooses to ignore that_  - so she could walk over to their bags.

After grabbing the first bikini set and the first pair of shorts she sees, the blonde gets dressed in record time. She turns around to face him then, ready to smirk in triumph - except he seems even  _more_  pleased and amused now.

"Now, that was way easier than I thought it would be; making you get dressed and ready for our swim."

_Did she just fall right into his trap?_

Eleanor narrows her eyes, jaw clenched hard. She  _never_  knows how to react when he wins.

Wanting to be away from him, she reaches for the flap. The sweet solitude of the spring awaits her, and since she won't be getting any more sleep, she could take advantage of the situation and spend more time than usual in there.

But he grabs her wrist just as she's about to walk out of the tent.

Her eyes hold a thousand warnings when she looks at his face.

"Wait until you see what I have to show you. You'll thank me later."

She scoffs stubbornly in contempt.

But her curiosity is piqued, for some reason, so she gives up on the spring and crosses her arms, waiting for him to pull on a pair of bermuda shorts.

Her face remains a cold mask as they walk outside, their feet soon touching the white sand.

There's absolutely  _nothing_  different or special.

Just the bay, their ship near the strait.

The first streaks of dawn are starting to appear, and even though it  _is_ a beautiful sight, she'd rather be sleeping right now.

"So?" Eleanor asks in a bored, annoyed tone.

He doesn't say a word, walking closer to the ocean and pulling her along.

She's had enough, and when her feet touch the cold water, her irritation gets the best of her.

"I'm fucking tired of your bullshit and if you think-"

"Shh." He interrupts her, a bit too harshly to her liking, but what makes her want to punch him in the face is the finger he raises at her.

The gesture brings unpleasant memories from unpleasant times to the surface.

" _I dare you_ to raise that finger at me again-"

"Will you fucking pay attention?"

Outraged by the look on his face, she's about to slap him hard and storm back to their tent when a splash reaches their ears.

Frowning, she looks at the ocean in time to see  _something_  diving back below the water, a tail that seems too delicate to belong to a shark, but too large to belong to a simple fish.

"What's that?"

"They weren't birds."

"I can see  _that_." She snaps, rolling her eyes. Her irritation makes the corners of his lips twitch up.

"One night, long ago... Three centuries ago, in fact. You mentioned a childhood dream to me. One you didn't have the chance to fulfill."

It takes her a few seconds to catch up and  _remember,_  but when she does...

A gasp escapes against her will, as she finally recognizes the noises from earlier. Her eyes meet his for a split second, then he's pointing at the water and grabbing a hold of her shoulder, urging her to look at the ocean again.

She can't help but laugh at the sight of a bottlenose dolphin leaping out of the water, making a show just for them.

It  _was_  her childhood dream, she used to watch them from the beach when she managed to sneak away, always dreaming of swimming with the beautiful creatures.

But of course, she never could. They never got too close to the island and even if they did, she doubts they'd let her approach them. Not to mention, she'd be in deep trouble with Scott if she came back from her little adventures soaked to the bone.

A wave comes, covering their feet. She frowns when Charles tries to pull her along, remembering what he said about going for a swim.

"We can't, they're wild dolphins, we'll spook them away." She tries, but he's stronger than her and soon, the water is already reaching to her waist.

It's cold, but she doesn't mind it. The wonderful sensation of gentle waves breaking against her bare stomach actually makes her sigh in satisfaction.

"Dolphins are sociable creatures. It's in their nature." He begins, eyes glued to the creatures. They're swimming near the ship, apparently curious about the old girl.

And she feels giddy like a teenager, to be in the water while they're so close...

"Even if they're wild. They often save humans from drowning. I've seen it happen a couple of times, actually. While I was at sea. They're smart too. They  _know_  we mean no harm."

She's not convinced by his words, but even if the dolphins swim away when they get too close,  _this_ experience is already a wonderful gift.

The sounds are getting louder, and when their feet stop touching the seabed, she can't stop herself from smiling wide.

"And I don't think they're  _that_  wild. If they venture so close to the beach like this, if they swim through the strait, into 'human territory'... My guess is that these guys are actually frequent visitors to this community."

He does have a point, but she refuses to get her hopes up. Just yet.

When they're just a few feet away, however, when they're close enough for Eleanor to be able to make out the creatures' eyes and little teeth whenever they opened their mouths, the dolphins show no signs of fear or even alarm.

_Much to the contrary._

Her jaw drops and she's rendered speechless when one of them swims closer, gliding through the water right between her body and Charles'. The slippery skin actually touches her waist, and she's sure there are stars in her eyes as she looks from the dolphin to her pirate's face.

She's certainly looks just like a child on Christmas day, but she can't bring herself to care right now.

Her lips remain parted in pure awe while the creatures swim beneath them, around them, and she just might be going insane but Eleanor could swear the dolphins are way too interested in her. It's almost as if they sense  _something_  in her, always swimming close to her body and making all kinds of efforts just so she'll laugh.

She'd always heard about how intelligent these mammals were, but now that she's seeing it with her own eyes, she's utterly amazed.

The noises they make are absolutely adorable too, and her cheeks actually hurt from all the smiling and laughing when they make it back to the beach an hour later.

The community is starting to wake up, the sun rising higher in the sky, and she looks at the strait over her shoulder just in time to see the pod leaving the bay.

Charles is staring at her like an idiot when she meets his eyes, gratitude written all over her face.

_And later, she'll make sure to show him just how grateful she is._

Right now, though, there is only one thought in her mind.

"I'l go up to the hill and see if there's phone signal. Need to speak to Scott. Can you get me some watermelon in the meantime?" She asks, just as her stomach growls. Charles frowns at her.

"Since when do you like watermelon?"

"Since now!" She pushes his shoulder half heartedly as Jack walks out of his and Anne's tent, frowning in confusion at the state they're in.

But neither of them pays him any mind, and Charles pulls her closer to press a brief kiss to her lips.

"Alright." He walks away to do as she requested. And she just can't comprehend all the joy that's taking her over right now.

It's an unfamiliar feeling, but  _not at all_  unwelcome.

* * *

**Nassau, Bahamas, 08:00 PM**

"Your daughter has sent this. Fresh out of the oven, your favorite."

Scott raises an eyebrow as the con man approaches the counter with that roguish smile of his.

John is always trying to sneak his way inside his heart, but just like the overprotective parent he is, he never lets go of the warning, stern looks. Even if he's actually warming up to his daughter's boyfriend by now.

But there's no way he'll stop playing the role of guardian angel for his little girl. She's  _still_  his little baby, she'll  _always_  be.

Accepting the bag containing his dinner from John's hand, he's about to speak when two familiar faces appear at the door.

And even though he already knew this man was coming here, seeing him again is still a surprise.

"Now look at this place. It's as if the building remained frozen in time. I can't believe it's not the original one." He says, reaching to shake hands with Scott as soon as he makes it to the counter, Flint close behind him.

Smiling, he sets the bag aside. "Where are you living?"

"Just down this street. 5 minute walk from the tavern. These are my boys right there." Hal says, pointing at two identical teenagers standing by one of the tables and inspecting the ancient looking place curiously.

The con man has moved away to lean against a nearby wall, watching the scene in silence. His eyes meet Flint's for a split second, and he forces a weak, hesitant smile when Gates nods curtly at him in greeting.

Scott can't help but feel amused by this. Seeing John uncomfortable has to be one of his favorite things in this world.

Gates glances at the closed double doors to the office, half expecting to hear a certain blonde tyrant yelling at some unfortunate sap who got on her nerves.

"When is she coming back?" The newcomer asks, looking at Scott again. He sighs heavily, all signs of amusement fading from his eyes.

"No one knows for certain, not even her. It's a long story, they have a lot on their hands." His phone buzzes on the counter, and he can't help but smile warmly at the name on the caller ID. "Excuse me. It's her."

John rolls his eyes, even though no one sees.

"Yes?" Scott walks away from them, all his attention focused on the phone call now, and there's an awkward silence between the three men for a few seconds.

"Business is going well, I see..." Gates begins, taking a look at all the customers and making sure the twins were behaving.

"Since day one. All tourists seek this place sooner or later. They say it's...  _authentic_." Flint explains, making him chuckle.

"Well, if only they knew. If only they knew."

"How old are the boys?" A third voice asks, and they look at the con man.

"Fourteen. I also have an 11 year old girl."

John nods, shifting uncomfortably. "Well, I heard... I heard from Scott that when the big heroes come back home, they'll be bringing a little girl with them. About the same age as yours."

Frowning, Gates fails to see the ice cold look Flint is giving the con man.

"Who's the child?"

"Charles Vane's baby sister... Yes, our lives are  _completely_  insane now." John announces, surprising the newcomer as Flint rolled his eyes and turned his back to them. A frown comes to his face as he catches sight of Scott. He seems tense, something must have happened.

_Hopefully Eleanor is okay._

"How about that... The new world is full of surprises."

"Indeed." Flint finally speaks again, eyes still glued to Scott. "Full of surprises, new threats, new  _bullshit_  and inconvenient little pests to get on our nerves."

"That's me." John tries to lighten the mood, but his grin falls when Flint shoots him a deadly glare.

Scott comes back then, a strange look on his face. The atmosphere suddenly becomes much heavier.

"Flint. A word, please?"

* * *

_God help him_ , if those footsteps belong to who he's thinking, he'll break that fucking nose tonight.

"You're really serious about this?"

That voice makes his jaw clench hard and he stops in his tracks. Thankfully, John stops too, at a safe distance from him.

"If you don't have any helpful input whatsoever, I suggest you mind your own business."

His tone is filled with warning and he resumes his walk.

Sure enough, that insufferable pest starts following him again, immediately. Flint does his very best to ignore him.

He's just left the tavern, and his mind is racing. Scott told him the news;  _their_  girl is still stuck in that shady island, a war about to break out, and the odds are apparently against her.

No decent army.

No guarantee that they'll find any other soldiers, and they will only have one last chance to search for these before they're forced to act.

_Whether they're ready or not._

What the fuck did Eleanor get herself into?

He has no idea, but he just promised Scott that he'll gather a band of recruits and leave for Phuket as soon as possible.

It's crazy. It's  _insane_.

But there's no way in hell he's just going to sit by and do nothing. So when Eleanor travels to the mainland again, he will be waiting for her with at least a dozen of strong, capable men.

_Someone_  seems to have hated that idea.

"What are you even trying to achieve,  _James_?"

He freezes.

His heart skips a beat. For a split second, he feels...

_Elated?_

Scratch that, fury rises in his chest, and he needs to take a deep breath to grasp at his self control.

"Don't you  _dare_  calling me that."

"I know you!"

Staring at the spot the Ranger used to occupy in the harbor, Flint swallows hard.

"You're  _not_  doing it for Eleanor." His fists clench at his sides, and he does his best not to snap. "You're hoping to get yourself killed."

Lowering his eyes to the sand, he shakes his head. It's barely perceptible, but he just knows that the other man has noticed it. He just does.

He thought that John couldn't do anything more daring than saying his name.

_He was wrong._

"You think this is what  _he_  would want you to do?"

His warning, all these months ago, had been  _very_  clear.

John was not to mention a word about  _him_ , never again. And the bastard just violated that rule.

It's been a while since the last time he moved so fast.

His fist connects with the con man's jaw, and he barely feels it. All he knows is that two seconds later, they're both lost in an intense brawl, disturbing the sand beneath their feet.

The rest of the world is forgotten, all they can think about is where the next punch will land, how to block the next elbow or knee to the stomach, how strong the next kick will be.

Every single time their eyes meet, it only spurs them on, pent up rage and frustration taking over naturally. Neither one of them has any idea where it all comes from, and in truth, neither wants to stop and think about it.

For some reason, they're actually  _afraid_  of what the answer might be.

So they settle for taking their anger out on one another, the fight growing more fervent with each passing second. John punches his cheek hard, and he's about to surge forward, intending to tackle him to the sand...

"...hey!  _Hey_!" A stern voice reaches their ears suddenly, and they're suddenly separated by the newest member of their...  _Family_?

_The new world is insane._

"Now we're fist fighting like high schoolers?" Gates yells in outrage, looking from Flint to John as the two try to catch their breath, taking a few steps back. "Not even my 14 year old twin boys do such a thing. This behavior is utterly  _pathetic_  and I have a feeling you  _both_  know that!"

Spitting some blood to the sand, Flint rolls his eyes and turns his back to them.

"I don't know what happened here. I have no idea what took place between the two of you in the 18th century, after my demise, I don't  _want_  to know because the past is dead and buried to me. But there's clearly  _something_ , and I suggest you deal with that like adults. It's high time."

They refuse to look at each other, and Gates scoffs at them before leaving the beach without another word.

Flint is walking again, and the con man watches him go for a moment before his feet start moving too. He's following him again, a grumbled " _crap_ " leaving his bruised lips.

* * *

**Bavarian Alps,** **07:00 AM**

_He's an idiot._

Sitting here on the floor of a stall, in the stables of the Guthrie estate, unable to get any rest, Billy keeps repeating the words in his mind.

He's such an impulsive, reckless idiot.

A huge snowstorm had arrived a week ago. Elsa was angry about something, according to Davina. And while the little girl was ecstatic about seeing snow for the first time in her life, Abigail and him couldn't have been more bummed.

Their plans to spend some quality time in the stables, just getting to know each other away from Mary's prying eyes and Davina's endless interruptions, were put on hold. The weather was so bad that they could hardly open the doors to the terrace. Much less get to the barn.

When the storm subsided, two days ago, he decided it was perfectly safe for them to finally come here. Mary tried to convince him not to, saying it would be wiser to wait for a few days longer, but he hardly even listened.

_Idiot._

Everything was perfect at first. They shared a simple, yet amazing dinner, they talked about their likes and dislikes. She somehow got him to open up a little about his difficult past in South Africa. He barely recognizes that life as his own now, but he couldn't exactly tell her about the 18th century.

Speaking of it, he also tried to get her to remember, discreetly, of course. He told her stories about pirate ships, about the fort back in Davina's birthplace. He mentioned Nassau a lot, saying it was where they would live, once Charles came for them.

And even though it clearly made her uncomfortable, he talked a lot about Davina's big brother. So far, this is what causes the strongest reactions. Whenever they talk about Charles, Abigail acts like a scared little mouse, lowering her eyes and fidgeting with her shirt nervously.

Almost as if she remembers being his prisoner.

Maybe it would be more effective to mention Low, because for some reason, Billy doesn't think Charles treated this girl too badly. But he has no idea where that psycho is today, he doesn't even know him, so there's no way to bring him up in casual conversation.

It's much easier to mention Davina's brother, and even if Abigail didn't receive too much of a harsh treatment from him, it must have been scary as hell anyway.

Her reactions prove it, and he  _knows_  that Charles holds the key to the basement of her subconscious, where all those memories are locked away.

He has no idea why, but he wants her to remember.

He needs to know what happened to her, he needs to know if her fate was better than his. Even if this urge makes no sense at all to him.

He would like her to have her memories back, by the time they return to Nassau. He knows what he's going to find, the  _people_  he's going to find, and he fears that Davina won't be enough.

His jaw clenches. He doesn't want to dive into the past. His new life is good, he has a  _family_ , and all of that could be ruined if he decided to quench his thirst for revenge.

Once they're back home, he knows his anger will be intensified. And his little girl's smiles won't suffice to calm his temper, to restrain him.

No, he needs more weight on his anchor.

_Maybe, just maybe... The light weight on his left shoulder could be enough?_

The teen stirs by his side, starting to wake up. This brings him back to the here and now, and he remembers their current situation. They ended up snowed in, when the storm decided to come back.

It's been more than 24 hours now, and he's sure Mary will be livid about his carelessness.

But at least they had food, and Abigail found a horse blanket to keep them warm. She said it was the only one.

He does think it's weird, there used to be 10 horses in this barn, how come there was just one blanket? All that matters is that they didn't freeze to death, he supposes. If something happened to this girl, he's sure Eleanor would find a way to resurrect him just so she could kill him again in a  _much more_  painful way.

"I think it stopped. I woke up and everything was silent out there." He says as Abigail opens her eyes, stretching briefly.

Her head is still resting in his shoulder and the proximity of her delicate body makes him smile like the idiot he is.

They've been sharing the blanket since last night, sitting here in one of the stalls, and to his surprise, the teen doesn't seem uncomfortable or shy at all.

Instead, there's a certain mischief in her eyes, as if she knows something he doesn't.

As if she's pleased with herself for some reason.

"Really?"

It takes her a few moments, but she finally raises her head from his shoulder and gets to her feet.

They both feel the loss. After spending the last ten hours huddled so close together, it's not a pleasant feeling to have their little cocoon burst like that.

But the real world is calling, and once they make sure the snowstorm is gone, Billy opens the heavy door with some difficulty due to all the snow covering the ground outside. It's a good thing the staircase leading up to the terrace is so close.

And once they're about to go back inside the chateau, Abigail looks at him with a smirk on her lips, eyes shining with mirth.

"There  _was_ more than just one blanket."

He has no time to react, she's rushing through the double doors already, disappearing from his sight, her cheeks surely blushing.

He stands there for a while, trying to understand what just happened, and what does it mean.

_She was basically giving him the green light... Wasn't she?_

Thinking about her little scheme with the blanket, he can't help but laugh. Looks like she's not an immaculate, innocent child after all.

Stepping inside the chateau and closing the doors behind him, Billy doesn't lose his half smile.

_Interesting... Very, **very**  interesting._

* * *

**Nassau, Bahamas,** **01:00 AM**

"Once everything is solved... a certain someone will be coming here."

He frowns at Flint's words, not looking away from the sea.

They've been sitting on the sand near the tavern for the past couple of hours, in absolute silence, after he went to retrieve a rag from Scott so they could take care of the blood on their faces.

After the outburst from earlier, things have been strangely calm. But there's a sense of grief between them that John simply cannot explain or even understand.

"Who?"

Looking at Flint, he tries not to scoff. Other than a busted lip, there's not too much damage on the older man's face.

As for him, his nose hurts like a bitch, and his right eye is swollen shut already. He must be a mess, and that's exactly why he didn't go back home yet.

Madi won't be pleased when she sees him like this, and he's not looking forward to that.

"I honestly don't know what will become of me in the near future. But I do have much regard for Madi, and for her mother. So I suggest you keep your guard up for him, because he remembers everything. And from what I have seen... he's  _enraged_."

Realization dawn on him, and John closes his good eye for a moment.

" _Billy_."

Flint's silence is the only confirmation he needs, and a few seconds later he's getting to his feet.

"You better keep Madi safe."

With those words, he's leaving, walking away in the direction of the house he shares with Caroline.

Swallowing hard, John gets up from the sand and rushes to catch up with him.

"I really think you should reconsider this."

"Why do you care?" He snaps, stopping and turning around to face the con man.

"As... crazy as our new reality is, we're just one big family now."

Scoffing, Flint takes a look around. Avoiding him at all costs. " _Seriously_?"

"What I  _really_  means is... You're important to Madi. You two have gotten closer lately and she would be devastated if something happened to you. Besides... As infuriating as you are, I would rather have you here, alive... With  _us_." Forcing one of his roguish smiles, he shrugs. "Don't force me to attend a boring funeral and see the woman I love cry."

They watch each other in silence. It's not awkward or uncomfortable this time, and Flint is still trying to find the words to say when a car stops nearby.

"Ugh, John, what the  _hell_?" An exasperated, pissed off Madi rushes up to then, grabbing a hold of his face to inspect his black eye and other bruises.

Pointing at Flint, he tries to act like everything is just fine. "He did it... On purpose."

"Which means you  _deserved_  it. Let's just go home."

With that, she's dragging him back to the car with purposeful steps, and he already knows he's in deep shit.

Glancing back at Flint over his shoulder, he mouths a " _thank you very much_ " before getting into the passenger seat.

Standing there on the beach, Flint watches the distancing car.

_I would rather have you here, alive._

**_I._ **

**_James._ **

Swallowing hard, he shakes his head, walls coming up.

When he starts walking again, it's not towards the house anymore.

Luckily, his ship is here this week, she will only return to Rhode Island in a few days, and he plans on taking advantage of that.

Caroline is at the house with Melissa, and they don't deserve to see him drowning himself in alcohol.

* * *

**Shih Island, six days later, 08:00 AM**

Rolling his eyes at the scene playing out nearby, Jack shakes his head.

It's been almost a month since Charles' birthday already and lately, the two lovebirds have not been acting like themselves at all.

"I don't really know what happened between these two on the ship 24 days ago, but they seem so much closer. It's like they're living in their own little bubble of happiness, where nothing else matters. Not the outside world problems, not Teach, not Rogers, and most certainly  _not_  the impeding war." He says, mostly to himself.

He's sitting in the shadow of the palm tree, Anne's head resting on his lap, her eyes closed. She's not paying him much mind, and he's watching as Charles teaches Eleanor how to spear fish in the shallow waters.

_Or tries to._

They often get distracted, the spear in her hands completely forgotten as her free arm goes around his neck and they kiss as if they're alone in this island.

"It's as if they're in paradise. And have you noticed they can't stay away from each other for more than  _5 minutes_  now?"

"They're too smiley. Makes me wanna throw up." Anne says in a nonchalant tone, not even opening her eyes.

"It's not that I don't like to see them like this. They reserve to be all giddy and in peace, but now is  _not_  the time. We have a lot to take care of, and they need to wake up... It's not like her to be like this. It's not like him either. They should be more worried, but they seem so distant. Of all times, they choose  _now_  to act like a couple of honeymooners."

"Cut them some slack." Anne grumbles, and he looks down at her face. "They'll go back to normal in a few days at most."

"And if they don't?"

"I'll  _force_  them to do so."

He scoffs, looking from her closed eyelids to that couple of idiots just in time to see Charles taking the spear from Eleanor's hands.

He throws it to the sand before wrapping his arms around her middle and pulling her further into the ocean. A gentle, unbroken wave comes, covering them completely as their lips meet again and they dive together.

Jack just has to roll his eyes again.

" _Ugh_."

* * *

_**Trigger warning: Mentions of domestic violence** _

.

**Los Angeles,** **11:00 pm**

Wincing at the pain, Sarah puts the sleeping infant in his crib, her injured wrist protesting.

After making sure Aiden wouldn't wake up, she smiles weakly. The bandages are gone, the stitches are gone, and all he has is a scar on his foot now.

_As for her..._

Sighing, she leaves the nursery, closing the door carefully before making her way to her room.

Getting ready for bed is a painful task, and she replays the events of the day in her head.

She went shopping for groceries this afternoon, leaving Aiden with his father. He wasn't working today, since it's Saturday. A sickening, familiar laughter reached her ears when she came back home, and her eyes filled with tears.

_Alyna was here._

She remembers it, Woodes once cheated on her with this woman, soon after learning about her "infertility".

They weren't even officially divorced yet.

Heaving a broken sigh, she looks at her bruised face in the mirror, a lone tear rolling down her left cheek.

_Play dates her ass._

She knows what he was doing, she knows he just wanted to hurt her feelings.

And after Alyna and Theodore were gone, she went to question her ex-husband.

They were right at the top of the stairs, and when he pushed her out of the way, she couldn't hold on to the railing in time.

Now she has a sprained wrist. A busted lip, the carpet scratched the right side of her face until it bled. Woodes simply locked the baby proof gate, then went down the staircase and walked past her as if she was nothing.

He left the house, and the only thing that motivated her to get up from the floor was her son. He was crying at the top of the staircase, watching her, holding on to the bars of the gate.

She spent the entire day trying to distract him, ignoring the pain from her injuries as best as she could and masking her bruises with makeup.

But deep down, Sarah knows it was useless. That scene was burned into Aiden's brain now, Dada pushing Mama and causing her to fall down the staircase.

That image will stay in his subconscious forever, even if he forgets it as he grows up, and she knows that Woodes will make him even more repulsed from now on.

He  _understands_  things already. Her son is not a tiny newborn anymore, he  _knows_  his Mama is hurt.

And he also knows  _who_  was responsible for it.

She needs to put an end to this. Before it gets worse.

She got hurt.  _Her son_  got hurt.

_What comes next?_

While she was nursing Aiden a few minutes ago, Sarah caught herself looking for plane tickets online.

She always liked New York. Maybe they could go there.

Glancing at her phone, she swallows hard.

Miss Barlow, the lawyer she met at the park. Somehow, that woman knew what she was going through.

_"I have seen my fair share of victims from domestic violence."_

The gentle voice echoes through her mind. It was the first time someone  _cared_ , and while Woodes argued with his brother on the phone, away from them, Miss Barlow discreetly gave her her phone number.

_"Call me if you feel the need. I am not here to judge. I am here to **help**."_

A million thoughts are flying through her mind.

A restraining order against her ex husband.

Fleeing to New York with her son and starting over new. Away from everything she knows, everything that's familiar to her.

She's wounded. She has  _proof_. She could contact Miss Barlow and go press charges against Woodes  _now_.

Would it be enough? To grant her the freedom she's always been so scared of, the freedom she's starting to desire?

Would it be enough for her? To live away from this place, her home, with her little baby boy?

She loves him. He loves her. Can she be happy, living in a new place, having a new life, with someone she loves, someone who loves her? Is it enough?

_Is it possible?_

And the main question is; can she do it?

Can she turn her back on Woodes like that?

The immediate answer, as usual, is a big, yelled  **no**.

But for the first time ever, there's a meek little voice whispering yes...

Hours pass. Suddenly, heavy footsteps make their way up the stairs, bringing her back to reality, and she freezes. He's finally back. She listens in silence, holding her breath. That  _familiar_  fear starts to come creeping in.

He's going to the guest room, but then he stops.

Making his way to her bedroom instead.

Her heart leaps to her throat when he opens the door, walking closer to the bed. She has her back to him, maybe if she pretends she's asleep, he won't hurt her...

The mattress dips under his weight. Her eyes squeeze shut.

"I know you're awake. You're trembling. Is it from fear?"

Her breath catches. His voice is cold and distant, but at least she doesn't detect any hostility.

She doesn't answer the question, frozen, listening as he got rid of his shoes, shirt and...

_Then he's lying down by her side._

"Come here."

She flinches like an abused dog as he gathers her in his arms, pulling her to his chest and whispering...

"I'm sorry."

She can't believe it.

He still sounds cold. But his pride...

He's apologizing, an apology means a  _lot_  when it comes from this man, right?

She finally relaxes in his embrace, holding on to him for dear life as her tears flow freely.

_It's okay._

Everything is  _okay_. He's letting her fall asleep in his arms like he used to do before. He's caressing her hair and kissing her forehead tenderly like he used to do before, whispering reassuring words in the dead of night...

_He's manipulating you.,_  that meek voice says in her head. Again, she doesn't know where it came from.

And she  _can't_  bring herself to care.

* * *

**Shih Island, 05:30 pm**

Their eyes meet and she can't help but smirk at him before making her move.

Her fist meets his jaw just as he's been teaching her, and she's surprised to see him actually stumbling backwards for a moment. His balance comes back almost immediately though, and even if she's pleased with herself, Eleanor raises an eyebrow in question.

Rubbing his jaw, he shakes his head, letting her know he was okay. His eyes are filled with the rawest pride.

And then he's surging towards her.

Realizing what he was doing, she tries to punch him again. He dodges quickly, going behind her back and pulling her flush against him in the blink of an eye.

Her back is pressed to his front, his arms around her, his left hand resting over her lower stomach.

When Charles whispers in her ear, she can feel the goosebumps rising all over her arms.

"Good girl. We just need to work on your reflexes now."

Scoffing at his words, she closes her eyes. His thumb strokes her bare stomach, making her smile softly in satisfaction.

"I'll never be quick like you and Anne."

"You have no idea what your body is capable of..." He kisses her shoulder, then nips at the skin of her neck softly, as if he can barely resist. And she knows that's  _exactly_  the case. "...in fact...  _We_ have no idea."

Frowning, she opens her eyes and turns her head to the side.

Her lips are close to his now, his eyes seeming to stare right into her soul.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know what it feels like to fight as a woman. Then how can I teach you properly?"

Eleanor catches up quickly, narrowing her eyes at him. "You're  _not_  gonna do this to me-"

He whistles, interrupting her words.

Only then she notices Anne had been watching them from the shadows of the jungle bordering the beach.

"You'll be teaching her some of your tactics every day at this hour. It's an order." Charles calls out in a firm voice and Eleanor steps away from his body, turning around to face him.

Instead of reacting in a negative way, the redhead just smirks in amusement and walks away.

The bastard smirks too, and she scoffs as he meets her eyes again.

"It's for your own good."

"I fucking  _hate_  you."

He winks at her, knowing she doesn't mean those words at all. At least  _not right now_.

A surprised sound leaves her lips when he grabs her, easily throwing her over his shoulder as if she weighted nothing and starting to walk towards the rich jungle.

"Let's see how you'll hate me when it's just the two of us bathing in the spring then."

Her laughter echoes through the camp, butterflies filling her stomach.

* * *

Hours later, across the island, when the whole camp is sound asleep, a rowboat arrives.

"The bay where Madame Shih and her followers live is on the other side of the island. If you follow North, you will soon come across the borders. There are usually armed men on patrol, and I highly recommend that you stay away from them." Their prisoner speaks, stuttering from times to times. Fear is written all over his face, and he swallows hard when his captor meets his eyes. "Can I go now...? I can swim back to the mainland, I promise you'll never see me again, I won't go to her-"

Any other words he might have said die in his throat when Teach reaches for his knife. Moonlight catches on the blade, and the Australian's eyes widen.

" _Madame Sh_ -" He tries to call out, even though it would be useless, but the sharp blade is buried into his gut before he can finish.

His body falls to the sand, and the giant nods at one of his men.

"You know what to do. So do the rest of you."

His voice is cold, devoid of any emotion, and the men immediately scatter, disappearing into the jungle. Only one of them remains to get rid of the body, and Teach cleans the bloodied blade on his sleeve before walking towards the lush vegetation too.

Everything is dark. The trees keep any moonlight from illuminating his path, but that doesn't intimidate him in the slightest.

He can hear the sounds from above, what's left of his crew keeping up with him. They're all hidden from his view up in the trees, hidden from the enemy's view as well.

The walk seems to last forever, but he knows it's bound to end sooner or later.

And sure enough, the putrid smell soon fills his nostrils. He stops briefly, squinting and trying to make out the hanging corpses. There's movement up ahead, he hears a faint conversation.

Walking past a skeleton, he sees them.

Two of the farmers, rifles in hand. They're laughing about some stupid joke, and he doesn't hesitate for even a second.

His steps are sure and confident and the farmers soon notice his presence. But they barely even have the time to point their rifles at him.

His men are immediately jumping down from the trees all around him and behind the Spaniards' backs, catching the bastards by surprise. Their knives go to their throats, and they're soon in possession of their weapons.

Looking at his new pair of hostages, Teach allows himself to smirk briefly.

His voice leaves no room for argument when he speaks.

"Llévame con tu líder."


	53. Not Her Duty

_**Nassau, Bahamas, three centuries ago.** _

_Breathe._

_Just **breathe.**_

_Holding on to one of the bedposts, she tries to keep herself from panicking._

_It's been her daily ritual for a little over a week now, she does this when she's alone, when **he**  isn't around to see it._

_She keeps repeating that mantra in her mind over and over again._

**_Breathe._ **

_It's what she tries to focus on doing. She **has**  to._

_She has to think about anything else other than **that** , but there are times when it's impossible._

_Like now._

_Her hands are trembling. Beads of sweat cover her forehead; she can also feel the moisture on the valley of her breasts, even though her new clothes that feel more like a prison cell squeeze them uncomfortably._

_She just wants to tear the damn things to pieces, now more than ever._

_It's hot. **Too**  hot. But that's not the reason why she's sweating right now._

_Doing her best to swallow the lump that forms in her throat, Eleanor lets go of the bedpost and walks to the window._

_There's no denying it anymore._

_At first, she stupidly thought she'd be able to ignore it... To pretend this wasn't happening. Like a child, she thought this scary truth would go away if she refused to acknowledge it. It was always her first reaction anyway._

_Another wave of nausea comes, much stronger than all the others. As if to rub in her face that her little plan didn't work at all._

_Her hand flies up to cover her mouth instinctively and she squeezes her eyes shut, already feeling the sting of tears._

_Her heart is drumming in her chest as she stands there for a few moments, waiting for the morning sickness to subside._

_This can't be happening._

_**Fuck,**  it can't be._

_When she opens her eyes again, a choked sound escapes her lips. She's staring right at **that**  damned spot, and for a moment, she can see his dead body again._

_Thank God it's not there anymore, thank God, she couldn't deal with this right now-_

_Damn it all to hell, she actually misses that bastard. But at the same time, she's so glad and relieved that he's gone. Just to think about how he would react, if he was still around to learn about her current... unfortunate situation..._

_For a second, just a second, Eleanor can hear the echo of his rare laughter. There are days when she's starting to forget what his voice sounded like, it makes her joyful, depressed and desperate all at the same time. But today is not one of these days._

_She can hear him laughing at her in contempt, making fun of her, but she also can picture the heartbroken look in his soulful blue eyes._

_And why in the world is she letting her thoughts fly to that damned **monster?**_

_Anger takes her over and she clenches her jaw, banishing that fucking animal from her mind._

_For now. He'll come back to haunt her sooner or later, he always does._

_Even if she manages to keep him out of her thoughts during the day, he's a frequent visitor to her dreams._

_And to her nightmares._

_Sometimes she wonders if ghosts are real, and if **his**  is around, taking cruel pleasure in tormenting her._

_It makes her insane that he still manages to infuriate her. Sometimes it's as if he's still here. Not even the fucking town can let him go; tales about the "Ghost of Nassau" fly around, and people swear the fallen pirate king makes his apparitions from times to times._

_Scoffing at that absurdity, Eleanor turns around, realizing she was already starting to think about him again._

_But her mind is ridden of his face when she gets nauseous once more. This time, she has to rush to the bed and sit down, dizziness taking her over too._

_How she wishes that a hole would open up on the floor and swallow her whole right now._ _And Eleanor simply can't understand where those thoughts come from. She shouldn't be feeling this way._

_It's not like this is a bad thing... Right?_

_Moreover, she should have known this was going to happen. Her husband is against any form of birth control, and she ended up giving in and letting him seduce her during her last fertile time. She doesn't know what she was thinking, and now..._

**_I am with child._ **

_But it's really okay... She's married, it's perfectly fine, and besides... This is her **duty**  now, isn't it?_

**_I am with child._ **

_She's **supposed**  to give him an heir._

_Heart racing, she tries to tell herself everything is **okay.**_

**_I am with child._ **

_Woodes will be so happy... It's alright. She **wants**  to make him happy, it's all she wants._

_It's her duty as a wife._

**_And it scares her to death._ **

* * *

**Shin Island, present days, 10:00 AM**

Leaning her back to the palm tree, she watches the two idiots spearing fish in the ocean. A stupid little smile plays on her lips. It always makes her strangely content to watch Charles and Anne working together. It's fascinating, she can't explain it.

Vasyl walks past her with a basket containing the fishes he had already cleaned, and his warm smile still has her a little confused.

She can't understand why this tough Russian took such a liking to her and Charles.

Still, she smiles back, watching as he took the basket over to the campfire.

Closing her eyes, she inhales the scent of the sea. It's a good thing Vasyl is already taking care of some of the fishes so early, she's already hungry.

This has been common during the last week, sometimes Eleanor feels as if she's eating for two, but she's been working so damn hard with her daily chores. And she's not really used to doing physical effort, so it's probably normal...

Her eyes remain closed, the ocean breeze caressing her face and her bare stomach. She's not sure how much time has passed but soon, the smell of cooking fish fills her nostrils.

And her eyes snap open, a frown coming to her face as her stomach churns.

She barely has to time to make it behind their tent, doubling over and emptying the contents of her stomach near one of the bushes. She just prays no one noticed...

_Wishful thinking._

"You okay, darling?"

Jack hurries over to her, holding her hair away from her face and waiting patiently until she was done. After coughing a few times and grimacing at the unpleasant taste in her mouth, she straightens up.

Her eyes are wide when she looks at his face, and Jack is immediately taken aback.

"Eleanor, what's wrong?"

"Something... Something's going on."

Tears fill her eyes. She's shaking, her breathing coming out a bit ragged.

"I know this kind of sickness, Jack. I've... felt it  _before_." He raises an eyebrow in question, and she swallows hard. "When I was... expecting Woodes' child."

For a moment, he just stares at her blankly.

"Eleanor, are you sure?"

She doesn't answer. She can't.

Not while her world is crumbling all around her, it's too hard to formulate sentences or even utter out a single word. But Jack's eyes glint, and he steps closer to her. His hands go to her shoulders. "Hummingbird, are you... Are you carrying my nephew or niece?"

Finally finding her voice again, she avoids his eyes. "I... I'm not certain."

Her mumbled words make him spring into action, and she doesn't protest as he pulls her towards his and Anne's tent.

"When is your next period supposed to come?" He asks as soon as they're isolated from the rest of the community, leading her to the hammock and prompting her to sit down.

"In less than a week... Four days, to be exact."

He nods at that, and she watches as he rummages through his stash. A frown comes to her face when he makes his way back to the hammock, a white, strange looking stick in his hands.

"Open your mouth."

"What on earth-"

" _This_  is a basal body temperature thermometer. Do you know what's your average body temperature?"

Still frowning, she stares at him as if he just grew a second head.

"98.2 to 98.6, as far as I know... It's the result I always got, whenever I used a thermomether without having a fever. Why?"

"Because-" He gives her a look, and she rolls her eyes before opening her mouth. The thermometer is in place immediately, and then Jack crosses his arms. "Your temperature could give us a clue on... Your situation. When a woman ovulates, it rises... Going back to normal soon after. If the egg is not fertilized, that is. In case this happens, in case you get pregnant... It remains higher than normal. Something like that, it's what Max told me. Right after Anne stopped taking the pills and got the IUD, she was very insecure. Max said it was normal, women often feel unsafe when they change methods like that. So she told me to get this thing, and taught me how to use it. We kept a basal body temperature chart for a few months, and the results helped put Anne at ease."

Finishing his explanation, he reaches for the thermometer when it bips.

His face is unreadable as he inspects it, then his eyes move from the stick to her.

"99.2, love. Definitely higher than usual. And if you're about to have your period... It shouldn't be."

"Then that means-"

The words die in her throat when the tent flap is pulled open, and Anne comes in.

Throwing her spear to the dirt ground, the redhead frowns at them and the thermometer.

"You got a fever, cunt?"

Eleanor looks from Anne to him, a pleading look on her face. He can also see the horror in her eyes, and they suddenly communicate without words.

He realizes that he's the only person in this entire island who she feels comfortable with in this moment.

His eyes soften, and he forces a smile when looking at Anne.

"Can you give us a moment, darling?"

She snorts, shaking her head and grumbling a " _fuck this shit_ " while leaving the tent.

"Thank you." Eleanor says after a few seconds of silence, and Jack puts the thermometer away before settling on the hammock beside her. He uses his foot to rock them back and forth gently, as if to comfort her.

"Have you been feeling dizzy?"

"No... I mean, I did, once. Only once."

"Recently?"

"Three days ago. I think..." She trails off, replaying the last few days in her mind.

Now she sees it all so clearly. All those mood swings. The headaches. The exhaustion. The dolphins that acted so protective towards her, while at the same time spoiling her with their adorable games and antics... Now it all makes sense.

The second she threw up, she realized all that. Now she also understands why she's been feeling so  _needy_  lately, wanting to be close to Charles all the time.

Letting out a broken sigh, she hides her face in her hands.

"Fuck, no, this  _can't_  be happening..." One tear escapes, and she angrily wipes it away. " _How_  did it happen?"

"Please don't make me explain this to you, darling."

Eleanor scoffs at him, eyes going to the tent flap. She just hopes Charles will stay in the ocean for a while longer, instead of coming here looking for her.

"Was it the only time? I mean, that irresponsible thing you two did. The night of his birthday was the only time?"

Capturing her lower lip between her teeth, she feels like a guilty teenager.

"Actually..." She begins, and Jack narrows his eyes at her. "...I also let him do it... the two nights that followed after his birthday, we didn't use any contraceptive methods. Not even withdrawal."

He runs a hand through his hair, exasperated, letting out a humorless, dry chuckle.

"' _How did this happen, Jack? How_?'" He speaks in a poor imitation of her voice, then shakes his head like a disapproving parent.

"You're not helping."

"Are you  _sure_  you didn't want that baby, Eleanor? Because if you truly didn't... A woman as rational and careful as you, this simply makes no sense at all."

She opens her mouth to protest, but nothing comes out.

He  _has_  a point.

Her behavior and decisions make no sense, and she still has no idea what possessed her. Being that careless is not like her, especially considering the fact that she wanted to avoid a pregnancy at all costs.

"I didn't want this baby. I do  _not_  want this baby."

Her voice comes out way harsher than she intended. She spits the word ' _baby_ ' out as if it's poison on her tongue, and the amount of acidity in her tone has her taken aback at first.

"I don't think that's true-"

"Jack, you need to help me out." She interrupts him, her face an expressionless mask by now. He realizes she's doing it again, locking herself behind her walls and stubbornly trying her best to manipulate what she feels.

_As if her emotions are objects she can just handle manually._

"What do you mean?"

"You  _know_  what I'm talking about. And you are going to help me, because I hold just the same amount of authority as your leader, and this is an  _order_. Also, you won't say a word about this to Charles, or Anne, or anybody else. Is that clear?"

He just stares at her face for a moment, easily reading the mix of emotions in her eyes.

She's terrified, absolutely terrified. She doesn't want to be alone in this, but she can't bring herself to ask him for help in any other way, even if he's her friend.

No, she has to hide behind her  _authority_  instead.

It annoys him, but his heart clenches for her anyway.

"Cinnamon." His voice is nothing but neutral now, even though he actually wants to argue with her for various reasons. "I also have aspirin in my stash. You'd need a lot but let's begin with harmless, natural methods, shall we?"

She nods eagerly. "We have access to cinnamon. Do you think you can make tea... Using only the utensils we have here and the campfire?"

"Shih has taught me."

She nods, fidgeting with the fabric of her shorts nervously. Jack sighs at the scene, reaching for one of her hands and squeezing it reassuringly.

"If  _this_ is what you really want... Know that I will support you, alright? It's your decision, and yours alone. But... Maybe you should give it some thought first? You're scared, maybe you should wait for a few days, then reconsider your decision."

"My mind is made up, and if I'm really pregnant... I'm not going to follow through with... with  _this_."

Jack nods at her, doing his best to ignore the twinge of pain in his heart.

It may be nothing but a bundle of cells in her womb right now, but it's still his little niece or nephew...

He will respect her decision anyway.

"Then be brave and do it early. If you wait too long, it could be risky for you. I don't want you to get hurt."

"I won't... It begins tonight."

"Very well. The tea will be ready by then. You should drink some more in the morning, in fact, all throughout the day. We need to increase your cinnamon intake gradually, and I'll see what else I can find around here... I heard pineapples can induce a miscarriage too. We'll try everything, don't worry. Also, I don't know if it's true, but I once read somewhere that too much sex in those early stages can terminate the pregnancy too... I'd tell you to try, but you know. You  _hardly_  need that advice."

His words bring the ghost of a smile to her lips, but her eyes are soon filled with tears again.

"I wasn't even fertile... Or rather, I wasn't  _supposed_  to be."

"You must have ovulated early. Your cycle is still messed up from the pills, I told you so. I  _told you_  not to trust the calendar for a few months."

"If... If I conceived shortly after his birthday, then how far along..."

He was already doing the quick math in his brain before she asked, so the answer is already on the tip of his tongue.

"It's August the 6th today and it's been 29 days since your night together on the ship. You said you also had unsafe sex the following two nights. Then you must have ovulated somewhere between the 12th and 19th of July... Unless he produces some sort of super sperm that can survive for more than five days inside your body, but I don't think that's the case. Even if he's, well...  _Him_." His attempt works and she smiles weakly again. "So, you must have conceived during those days... And implantation must have occurred 9 days later, more or less. Which means the embryo developing in your womb right now... could be anywhere between 9 or 16 days old. Let's assume it's been 12 days since implantation, then. It's... still very early. Good time to start trying to induce a miscarriage. The embryo should resemble a tadpole at this point, and it's no bigger than a sesame seed, so... I think it's safe enough for you."

She gets to her feet, tearing her hand away from his loose grip. He rubs the back of his head, then follows her to the flap.

"How much time... How much time do I have before its heart starts beating?"

Smiling weakly, he offers her a sympathetic look. "Darling, it should be starting to beat this week, actually. Maybe it  _already_  started, if my calculations aren't too accurate."

Something changes in her eyes, and he sees her cold facade faltering.

"So early?"

"The heart is one of the first organs to start developing and working... But the embryo isn't able to feel anything for now, so don't torture yourself, alright?"

She nods briefly, and it's almost as if she's trying to apologize silently as her hand comes up to squeeze his arm, a heavy sigh escaping her.

"It's  _not_  my duty, Jack. Not anymore."

Knowing exactly what she was talking about, he shakes his head.

"Eleanor, it  _never_  was. You own your body... And while I would love to be an uncle... you don't owe me an explanation."

She averts her eyes, letting go of his arm and turning around to walk away.

"Oh, and Eleanor." She looks at him over her shoulder, her eyes screaming of a lost, scared girl. He just wants to hug her, but she wouldn't let him, he knows. "I'm not doing this because you gave me an order. I'm doing this because I care about you, and I  _want_ to help. It's what family does... In case you forgot. You're not alone."

Jack sees her eyes glinting with unshed tears just before she looks away from him.

"Bring it to me by nightfall. I want to be alone for now... Make sure Charles is aware of that, please."

Watching as she disappeared inside her and Charles' tent, he rubs his forehead with a heavy sigh. While he walks away to retrieve the ingredients for the special tea, there is only one torturous thought in his mind.

_Kid, I'm sorry. The time just isn't right yet._

* * *

**Bavarian Alps, 03:00 AM**

"Once upon a time, there was an owl who was very friendly and lived in a large home. Everyone loved to sleep over on Friday nights. She was very naughty, and rarely listened to her Mom." Mary pauses, yawning and covering her mouth. Her eyelids are heavy and she's not fully awake yet.

Davina came rushing into her room just a minute ago, throwing the door open and yelling something about how Jafar was hiding in her closet, ready to kidnap her. Mary assumes she must have had a nightmare, and since the little girl was scared for real, she decided to just let her stay here until the morning.

But that wasn't enough, and bedtime stories were in order.

"She asked lots of questions and shared her hopes and fears. Her mom tried to teach her about life. Although her mom warned her specifically about safety, the little Owl always wanted to try things on her own rather than listen to her mom's advice. Owl's curiosity tested her mom's patience at times."

Davina giggles, knowing  _exactly_  who was the inspiration behind the little Owl. This makes Mary smile, and she pulls the thick blankets over their bodies as the wind howls outside.

"But the little Owl had a lesson to learn. Whatever Mom says, it's all for our good. One day, when her friends were sleeping over, the clouds came rolling in and the wind began to howl. As the night grew dark, Owl and her friends wanted to have some fun watching the rain beat against the window and feel the energy from the window panes."

Davina glances at the window, squinting in the dark. Her eyebrows raise when a flash of lighting light up the sky. It's as if Mama can control the weather.

"Owl's mom asked them to step away from the window so no one would get hurt. They ignored her request and continued to watch as the drops of rain beat down harder and harder. All of a sudden, they heard a loud clap of thunder followed by a bright flash of lighting. After this, little Owl couldn't see anything but bright white. she was very frightened and her friends called for her mom. Her mom ran from the kitchen and took Owl to the hospital nearby."

Gasping, Davina lifts her head from her adoptive mother's shoulder. "Did little Owl go blind, Mama?"

Mary narrows her eyes, drawing out the suspense for a while. Then a smirk tugs at her lips.

"No, baby, she didn't. The doctor said she just needed to rest, and she started seeing again in a few hours... But what lesson did she learn after that?"

"To never question her mama?"

"Exactly... Maybe you should learn a thing or two from little Owl."

Snuggling closer, Davina nods in agreement. "Your bedtime stories are the best in the world."

"Better than Charlie's?"

"Yeah. His are too scary sometimes. But don't tell him I said that."

Chuckling, Mary kisses the top of her head.

"It's our secret then."

"I have another secret, mama."

"And what's that?"

Davina looks at the door over her shoulder, then brings her lips close to her mother's ear with a conspiring look in her eyes.

"I think cousin Billy is going to kiss Abbie. Just like Charlie kisses Eleanor, and auntie Max and uncle Jack kiss auntie Anne." She whispers, pulling away and frowning in confusion. Her focus travels from one subject to the other just like that. "They're  _three_ , mama. How does it work?"

Mary thinks for a moment, trying to come up with the best explanation. One that was family friendly too.

"It just does... It's what works for them. About romantic relationships... There are many different kinds. But as long as it's consensual and nobody gets hurt, it's okay."

"But uncle Jack was sad one time. When auntie Max kissed auntie Anne. He had a sad face."

The concern in her voice makes Mary smile softly. But there's no way she'll be able to dive into the complicated matters of the heart and make her daughter understand them at this hour.

"Don't worry about your uncle Jack, munchkin. He's fine."

"What about you, mama?"

"Me?"

"When are you going to kiss a man... Or a woman?"

Her question catches Mary off guard. She doesn't know what to answer.

"You said you found it disgusting, did that change?"

"No. It's still gross and yucky when grown ups kiss. But they feel happy... And I want you to feel happy, mama."

Her heart nearly explodes. Her arms tighten around her daughter, and she shakes her head.

"That's so sweet. But I  _am_  happy, precious. You're all I need. Remember what I said to you, we can't see romantic relationships as the source of our happiness. We need to live for ourselves, not for others. I don't need a partner to be happy. I already am, I'm already  _whole_."

"But you could be even happier."

She has to admit Davina is right. But she doesn't say another word, and minutes go by. She's starting to think Davina fell asleep, but then her sweet voice fills her ears again.

"If you give me a papa or another mama, I hope they're nice... And cool. And strong like you. And I hope they like children."

Chuckling at her sleepy voice, Mary reaches out to turn the bedside table lamp off.

"I take note."

Davina nods against her chest, yawning and closing her eyes.

And Mary is so glad she's here right now, instead of facing her fears  _alone_  in her own room...

"Sleep well, baby girl."

* * *

**Nassau, Bahamas, 09:00 PM**

"What about your monkey? Is he ready for bed too?"

Melissa nods at her uncle, reaching for one of the many plushies all around her in bed.

"But he says he needs a goodnight kiss first, uncle Elijah."

"Of course he does."

Leaning in to drop a kiss to the plushie's head, Elijah also takes the opportunity to ruffle his niece's hair briefly.

She huffs adorably, working on tidying the mess immediately. Her eyes narrow, and she points at her uncle.

"You had a date with Carol, didn't you, uncle Elijah? She's my nanny, you can't do that!"

"We just talked, princess. We're friends, friends go out to talk sometimes."

She tilts her head to the side like a confused puppy. He just wants to squeeze her.

"So you didn't kiss her?"

"Nope, your royal Highness, I did not."

For some reason, Melissa seems to believe that if Caroline becomes her aunt, she won't be her babysitter anymore.

The thought terrifies her, and Elijah doesn't know how to make her change her mind.

"You're going to find an auntie for me someday... Right?"

"Of course I will. Any requests?"

"I want her to be nice like Carol. She needs to know how to tell me the best bedtime stories. The best ones in the world. She needs to know how to braid my hair, and she needs to be strong like you..." Melissa pauses, thinking for a moment. "And she needs to be beautiful just like Erika."

"The pauper, you mean?"

"She's not a pauper anymore, uncle Elijah. She married the king."

"Oh that's right. And the princess?"

Just as he expected, Melissa crinkled her nose in displeasure. "The princess married her tutor."

"You don't really like the ending of that movie, do you?"

"No, I wish Erika married Anneliese. They would both be princesses and rule the kingdom together."

Ever since the first time she watched the movie, Melissa thought like that. It warms his heart that she already recognizes and welcomes all forms of love.

"Maybe one day there will be a new Barbie movie where that happens." He says, and his niece nods in agreement. "So, beautiful like Erika. I take it you want a brunette auntie?"

"Brunettes are so pretty. Mommy is a brunette."

"So are you. And you are the prettiest princess in all the kingdoms."

Giggling, Melissa sits up in bed and throws her arms around his neck. They don't notice that Olivia is watching them from the door, hiding in the shadows with a warm, loving look on her face.

"You say that to me since I was a baby."

"It's the truth. And you know you love it when I say that."

"I love you, uncle Elijah."

He's not sure how in the world his heart hasn't exploded by now. How he wishes Woods was still alive today to see how much his goddaughter has grown.

"Not more than I love  _you_."

She rolls her eyes as he kisses her forehead, and he only gets to his feet once she's asleep.

Just before he leaves the room, he turns around to take another look at his sleeping niece.

"Sleep well, baby girl."

* * *

**Shih Island, 10:00 PM**

_"I just hope you won't regret it, darling."_

Jack's voice echoes in her mind as she sits cross legged on the bunk, staring down at the cup in her hands.

Taking a first, small sip, she frowns.

It doesn't really taste like cinnamon, the scent is different too. Jack stared at her face as if she was going insane when she pointed that out.

_"It actually has a strong cinnamon scent, hummingbird. I used **a lot**  of it to prepare this thing."_

Yet another sign that she is, indeed, pregnant again. Her perception of scent and taste, altered.

_Just her luck._

Heaving a sigh, she brings the cup to her lips again, this time taking a few proper gulps, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible.

It probably won't happen so fast, however. She'll need to try other methods, allied with the tea, but she will succeed sooner or later.

Will it be painful?

What will it be like?

She will probably need to be away from Charles when it happens. There will be blood, she's sure of it.

The thought is far more disturbing than it should be.

The flap is suddenly pulled open and she jumps slightly, her heart skipping a beat when her pirate walks in, shirtless, as usual.

His eyes settle on the cup in her hands. She momentarily forgets how to breathe.

"What's that?"

He's scowling, and she's tense as hell. Guilt suddenly takes her over.

What if he catches up, what if he understands? What if he's heard about the potential abortive effects of this tea?

He probably has no clue...  _Right_?

"Cinnamon tea." Her voice sounds meek, and she mentally kicks herself.

Charles is still scowling, staring at the cup, and each second feels like a thousand years. She can hear her own heart drumming.

Then he meets her eyes, raising an eyebrow with a bored look on his face.

Some of the tension fades away and she shrugs.

"What? I have English blood in my veins, in case you don't remember. Sometimes I need tea."

He rolls his eyes, finally moving further into their shelter and grumbling a " _fuck's wrong with you people_." Relief fills her heart.

_He's completely clueless._

"We have some free time tomorrow. Wanna go to the jungle?" His unique voice sounds through their shelter as he works on pulling his hair loose, keeping his back to her a few feet away from the bunk.

"Maybe. No tree climbing though."

She drinks some more, her eyes traveling down his exposed back and settling on that round scar that always sends a shudder down her spine.

That bullet made quite a lot of damage when it went all the way through... And he display both scars proudly, the ultimate proof of his love for her.

"Deal. I found this place with Anne the other day, you need to see it."

Eleanor forces a smile when he turns around, making his way to the bunk and sitting on the edge of the mattress.

Quickly finishing the tea, she makes a move to get to her feet, intending to go return the cup to Jack. He's snatching it from her hand before her feet can even touch the dirt ground though, and the sight actually makes her chuckle. But then he's setting the cup on the ground and moving closer.

She knows that look in his eyes far too well.

"Come here."

That raspy voice, that sinful raspy voice, just above a whisper but still somehow emanating strength. It always makes her legs go weak.

Her hands travel down his stomach as soon as his lips are on hers, Jack's advice coming to her mind.

She's suddenly even more eager for her criminal tonight.

Her straight-forwardness surprises him at first but of course he doesn't have a word of complaint. His teeth scrape her neck and collarbone while she rids him of his pants, and her clothes are quickly taken care of too.

Her breathy gasp when he enters her swiftly brings a wicked half smirk to his lips. She's quick to kiss it away.

And even though there are a thousand worries in her mind right now, Eleanor lets him make her forget everything... Just for a little while.

_Just for tonight._

* * *

Away from there, in the heart of the island, an imposing building looms, surrounded by vast plantations.

There is a lone figure staring outside from one of the windows in the third floor, enveloped by darkness.

The Estate is far larger than he previously thought.

Nothing could have prepared him for this. He had no idea the plantations were so huge, no idea the  _business_  was so huge. How in the world does his former lover manage to keep things afloat? As far as he knows, they never had any serious trouble with the law. Glancing over his shoulder at the darkness of his new sleeping quarters, Teach replays, yet again, the conversation he had with the current head of this family last night.

After the two hostages brought him and his men here, he immediately requested an audience with their leader. The first thing he did was to leave his intentions very clear. He meant no harm.

Much to the contrary.

_"You want to throw her out of the Island, but she controls the shipping of the drug. She takes care of business. How about I take her place, then?"_

His straight forward offer was welcomed with open arms, just as he expected.

_"Ching Shih has been a thorn on our side for many, many years now. Unfortunately, we're well aware that this rose we cultivated would die without said thorn. But we need to get rid of her and her little rats. We fear she's coming up with funny ideas."_

One look. One look at him and his men was all it took for Esteban to realize he was a formidable ally.

_"You won't have to worry about us. We will take over the campgrounds and stay away from here... We will surrender that community-"_

_"Not before I make sure you can be trusted. She is a silver-tongued snake. We know she's up to something, and we don't want her to drag you to her side."_

_"She and I have history."_

_"What history?"_

_"She took a lot from me, a long time ago. I want her to pay for it."_

Apparently, Esteban Ramirez liked what he heard from him, welcoming him and his men into the Estate for now.

Their first night definitely went well, and he spent the day telling the leader of this family all about his past as a modern pirate captain.

He showed them he has the experience  _and_  the skills needed to keep a criminal organization hidden from the rest of the world, while also thriving in the meantime. He showed them he's a perfect substitute to do his former lover's work.

Now he just needs to keep playing his "role", earning their trust and preparing himself for the big day.

The day he'll go take care of the community.

He also needs to start thinking about what he's going to do to Ching...

Raising his eyes from the plantations, he stares ahead at the rich jungle. In the direction of the campgrounds.

The ocean of trees obstructs his view, but they're so far that he wouldn't be able to see the camp from here anyway.

Just to think that she's in the same island as him, after all these years, however...

Hatred burns stronger in his heart. He feels something. His gut is telling him that he'll actually find a lot more than the hateful creature he came looking for.

_A lot more than profit._

His thirst for revenge only grows. A smirk plays on his lips.

For some reason, Teach feels as if he's just found a jackpot.

* * *

**Los Angeles, 08:00 AM**

His footsteps are light when he's sober.

Still, Sarah knows he has just walked into the kitchen, the second her son stops shrieking happily from the highchair.

Sure enough, he's soon by her side, getting himself some coffee while she prepares Aiden's breakfast at the counter.

Her ex husband was awfully quiet yesterday, but when she steals a look at him, he meets her eyes.

And then he's smiling warmly.

It means the world to her, even if the smile seems practiced and fake.

"How's your wrist?" He asks in a gentle tone, reaching for her hands and stopping her in her task.

She obeys his silent order, as always, stepping aside and letting him take care of their son's breakfast instead.

"Hmm?" He insists, and Sarah realizes she's been standing here by his side in silence for a few seconds now.

Coming back to reality, she touches her sprained wrist.

"It's... getting a little better."

Her voice is quiet, and he takes Aiden's little bowl to the highchair before heading over to the cabinet where they keep medicine and other supplies.

"Take your anti-inflammatories." He instructs, handing her the box and retrieving her a glass of water.

She obeys wordlessly, watching as he got an ice compress from the fridge.

He looks so handsome, his white shirt still open, suit jacket forgotten for now. His hair is still somewhat wet from the shower, and she can smell his aftershave when he comes to stand right in front of her, carefully removing her splint.

"You know what to do. Use the compress until this swelling subsides, then put the splint back on. Think you can do it alone? Or do you want me to wait? I can afford to be a little late."

She shakes her head, not wanting to disturb his schedule in any way. It's far too important to him, and Sarah knows that very well.

It's already good enough that he's caring for her like this. She wanted to go see a professional but he refused, telling her people would talk if she got out of the house while her bruises hadn't healed yet. But it doesn't matter, because he's taking care of her injuries just fine.

Butterflies fill her stomach as he strokes her lower lip.

"It's starting to look better too. That's good."

He leaves the kitchen then, and she stands there until he comes back, the buttons of his shirt all done. He's also wearing the dark grey suit jacket now. All ready for work and so perfect, so  _clean_.

_On the surface, that is._

"Guess what." He begins, washing his mug. "I've been thinking. We could leave Aiden with my brother one night and go to the Andromache."

Her breath catches.

Her favorite restaurant. He remembers this tiny detail, from their married time...

Sarah answers his invitation with a nod and a bright smile.

"Maybe we should wait until your face heals, however... We don't want the people of this city getting any...  _wrong ideas_  now, do we?"

Finally finding her voice, she can't stop smiling. "Okay."

His movements are almost robot-like as he brushes her hair behind her ear. Her heart sinks a little bit when he glances at his wristwatch.

"Time to go now. Please call me if you're in pain, I'll find someone to come help you with Aiden... Someone who won't  _misinterpret_  those bruises and try to pry into our lives."

Woodes walks to the highchair, and of course Aiden fusses when he drops a kiss to his head. Sarah listens as he heads out of the house, closing the front door behind him.

She knows, deep down, that he's simply manipulating her. He's not caring for her out of love or  _even_  concern, his heart belongs to Eleanor no matter what.

_She's aware of that._

Still, this is the first time he's gentle with her in more than a year. The last time was when she was about to discover the pregnancy.

_She missed him._

Sighing heavily, she puts the ice compress aside, fumbling a little to secure the splint around her wrist again. Once she succeeds, Sarah meets her son's eyes. He's staring at her in silence, his meal forgotten.

All her previous plans of pressing charges against Woodes and fleeing to New York feel like a very distant dream now, and she just can't find the strength to pursue them. A weak, sad smile plays on her lips as she reaches the highchair, stroking her 9-month-old's hair gently.

"I'm sorry, bunny. I just can't... I'm so sorry."

Her voice breaks. Aiden coos adorably, his small, chubby arms going to either sides of her hips in a mini hug. As if he's actually trying to comfort her.

A tear rolls from her eye to the baby's soft, chestnut hair.

* * *

**Shih Island, 07:00 AM**

_"I'm sorry, bunny. I just can't... I'm so sorry."_

**_I can't keep you._ **

_There's nothing but darkness all around her, and she's so cold._

_She's dreaming, she knows it._

_A nightmare? It's been a while..._

_But there's no sign of that hanging corpse._

**_...sorry, bunny..._ **

_Whose voice is that? It's familiar, she's heard it before. As the sentence is spoken again, however, the voice merges into hers._

_And then there's a new sound._

_A spine-chilling, heart-wrenching cry._

_There's a newborn somewhere around here, and it **needs help.**_

_It needs **her.**_

_Suddenly, she can see it in the distance. A basket, tiny hands reaching out into nothingness, and she needs to see the face of this child. She needs to._

_**Their**  child._

**_I can't keep you._ **

_A choked sob leaves her lips, and she's surging forward._

_Sharp, blinding pain stops her in her tracks, and she falls to her knees. The floor, she can't see it but it's cold as ice._

_Everything is cold._

**_Just like death._ **

_She realizes the pain is coming from her birthmark. She's wearing that same dress, the olive one. And she's just been slashed open. Blood flows, the warm substance coats her hand as she brings it to her side._

_The cries grow more insistent._

_The child, it **needs**  her._

_Her and Charles' child... Or her and Woodes'?_

_Urgency takes her over, but she can't breathe through the pain, she can't move, and then there's **something**  slithering by her side._

_A strange, eerie hiss fills her ears and her eyes widen when something sharp digs into the skin of her leg. A burning sensation spreads immediately._

_The cries die down._

_And she screams._

.

**" _No_!"**

Shooting up on the bunk, Eleanor looks all around their shelter. Her eyes are wide, she's covered in sweat, and her birthmark hurts. That strange, burning sensation on her leg also lingers, but it's vanishing with each passing second.

Charles is not here and her eyes instinctively search around for the basket at first, heart drumming in her chest. Of course, it's nowhere to be seen. Those chubby arms exist only in her memory now.

A shudder runs down her spine. She trembles hard for a couple of seconds.

Something catches her eye and her heart leaps to her throat when she sees the  _red_  on her inner thigh.

_Blood? Is she miscarrying?_

She's not fully awake yet, her eyes still adjusting to the light, but one touch is enough to let her know she's wrong.

_Just the hickeys Charles left last night... No blood. No miscarriage._

She should be bummed, but there's this strange relief flooding her soul instead.

Getting dressed is a tough task with her trembling hands, but she manages. Her eyes are still wide as she steps outside, looking all around and quickly finding Jack by the campfire.

"I regret it." Eleanor blurts out the words as soon as she drags him into her tent. "I don't know what's going on but I regret it so fucking  _much_ , Jack. I don't want-"

"You're saying you don't want to get rid of the embryo anymore? What the hell happened?"

"I don't know! I can't  _feel_ anything, I'm numb, but I don't want to kill the embryo."

"You do know it's just a bundle of cells right now, don't you? No need to feel guilty, this won't make you a murderer-"

"It's  _not_  that."

He considers her for a moment, wanting to step closer to her but holding back.

"Then what is causing this whole conflict inside you?"

"I don't know... I don't want this child, Jack, I don't want to be a mother, I  _can't_... But I can't bring myself to follow through with an abortion either. I can't lose another baby, I'm so fucking selfish-" A choked sob leaves her lips. She squeezes her eyes shut.

"Let's get something straight, we need to organize things. First of all... Are you going through with this pregnancy or not?"

She lets out a shuddering breath.

He's barely able to hear the broken " _yes_ " that slips through her lips.

The effort he has to make, in order to refrain from laughing in joy is immense. Holding back from celebrating this announcement is one of the hardest things Jack has ever done in his two lifetimes.

"But what if it's too late? What if the cinnamon I ingested last night-"

"Hummingbird. What I gave you last night, it  _wasn't_  cinnamon tea."

Eleanor glares at him, a surprised, somewhat angry look on her face. Of course, she wouldn't react too well to being tricked, her walls are probably trying to come up right now so he's quick to explain himself

"The second I told you about the embryo's heart... I saw it in your eyes. Your resolve faltered. I know you pretty well by now, I knew there was a chance you'd regret this... So consider my actions last night as a mere... safety measure. Yes, I wanted you to keep this baby from the beginning, but I wasn't trying to act behind your back and fool you, I just wanted to protect you. If you were still resolute on terminating this pregnancy today, I would have started helping you for real. No matter what my feelings were. Honestly. I  _respect_  you too much, Eleanor."

He chose the right words. She calms down almost immediately, her walls coming back down too.

But their discussion is far from over.

"If you're following through with this... What are your plans?"

"I'm completely lost, Jack. I can't feel anything for this baby, I don't even want to... I feel as if I'm my father right now and I fucking  _hate that._ "

"Perhaps it's normal... This is an unwanted pregnancy, and we're surrounded by problems everywhere we look. You must be going through something similar to post partum depression. But if you ask me, the fact that you don't want to end this pregnancy already means a lot."

She scoffs at his words, speaking in an acid voice. "Yes it does. It means I'm a selfish witch, who can't even spare an innocent soul of an uncertainty-filled future."

"You're going to lose that attitude right now. Self-deprecation won't get you anywhere, and you know that."

Sighing, Eleanor drops to the bunk. "Where's Charles?"

"He went into the jungle with the Russian, don't worry. He won't be back so soon, they're cutting wood."

She nods weakly. The sight of her, so fragile and confused, makes his heart break.

"We need some solid plans now. This is not a joke, it's a serious situation, and we need to decide where we're going from here. Once this child is born... Are you keeping it?"

He doesn't like the look on her face when she raises her head, meeting his eyes.

"Charles can't know. He  _can't_. I could wait until I start showing, then make up some excuse and go somewhere... Without him. By then, we'll probably be done with this whole mess with the Spaniards, and free to leave. Madi will help me. I'll tell him we're going on a sisters' vacation for a few months. I give birth, find a decent family for the child, then I go back home."

She's definitely desperate. Unable to see just how freaking  _absurd_  that plan is.

"Do you  _honestly_  believe that he won't notice the changes in your body? He knows every single inch of it, Eleanor. You'll probably get stretch marks, not to mention you'll have milk for a while. I know Charles is an idiot, but there's  _no way_  he won't notice."

Her face falls, the hope in her eyes vanishing with each word he says. It kills him to burst her bubble, but he has no other choice. "When you go through a pregnancy and you don't keep the baby, or it dies... It's an arduous process; making your body understand that. It would be painful, and it would take a long time. You would never be able to hide this from him. He would find out, and... I may have spent all those years working and living with him, I may be able to read him and predict his every move but... I honestly have  _no idea_  how he would react to this. I just have a feeling it wouldn't be pretty. He would feel betrayed on such a level, that it would ruin your relationship all over again. I assume you don't want that to happen."

"I can't lose him... But what happens when I start showing, what happens when I have no other choice but to tell him? He'll be-"

"-terrified as he's never been before, but he won't leave like his father did. You must know that... He will support you, no matter what. I  _know_  him. The sooner the better, love. Just face your fears. He won't walk away from you, especially not now."

She sighs heavily, burying her face in her hands.

Reluctantly, Jack walks up to the bunk, bringing one hand to her shoulder.

There's this nearly irresistible urge to touch her stomach, even if he wouldn't be able to feel any evidence of his nephew or niece's existence at this early stage... But it would be too much, and he knows she wouldn't deal too well with such a gesture right now.

"You know... Once it's born, if you're still unable to feel anything, to bond with him or her... If you  _want,_  I can adopt this child and raise it as mine and Anne's."

She meets his eyes, disbelief written all over her face. "You would  _actually_  do that?"

"There is something I never told you or anybody else, in truth... I've been longing to be a father for a few years now. Too bad a  _certain someone_  doesn't share the sentiment."

"That's why you kept pestering her, back at that drugstore in the Maldives."

"Indeed. She doesn't want to have a child. But maybe if it's her niece or nephew... Maybe if she doesn't have to give birth... I'm sure I can convince her. Besides, we have quite the growing family back home, in case you forgot. Even if you and Charles are unable to embrace parenthood, to embrace this child... There will still be a lot of people to care for him or her."

Letting out a shuddering breath, Eleanor wipes her tears away. "I hate the idea of throwing the product of my irresponsibility into somebody else's hands."

"You might have no other choice."

"Right. So in the end... It's either giving my child to someone else or becoming Richard Guthrie 2.0... Sounds like a fun choice to make."

"Oh drama, drama." Jack teases, but his attempt at making the mood lighter fails miserably. "Your feelings will probably change soon. Believe me. You must be a mess right now... But everything will be okay. We'll work things out. We got this. I will be coming to check up on you often, and you seek me out if you feel the need, alright? No matter what time is it. Are you telling anyone else?"

"No. Not for now. Just you."

For some reason, he smiles. "Alright then. I'll go look into my books. See if there's any natural remedy we can prepare to keep that morning sickness of yours at bay."

Just as he's about to walk out of the tent, Eleanor calls his name.

"Just... Thank you. For... well,  _existing_."

He can't contain his chuckle, nodding at her. His heart suddenly feels so full.

"Well, it's  _about damn time_  somebody recognized my value around here."

* * *

"That Rasputin you talked about..." Charles begins, bringing some logs to the cart. "...sounded like an interesting fellow."

It takes Vasyl a few seconds to understand that this is real, and for a while he just stares at the younger man.

He's starting a conversation. For the first time ever, his son is actually starting a conversation with him. He looks at their family's blessed knife, strapped to Charles' belt.

"That he was. Born a peasant, in the middle of nowhere. In the early 20th century, he traveled to St. Petersburg. Met some church leaders and gained their good graces. The thing is, in 1904, the tsar was graced with a son. His fifth child, he had four beautiful daughters before. Perfect girls, all of them. Bright and good-natured. But he still needed a male heir. Too bad, the boy was born sick. His blood wouldn't clot, whenever he got hurt. People blamed the tsarina for bringing this disease into the family."

Charles scoffs. Always the woman's fault. He's familiar with that way of thinking, it was common back in the 18th century too.

_It's still common._

He remembers almost killing another boy back at the orphanage, in his teenage years, because the asshole insisted on saying it was Anne's fault that her uncle abused her.

He beat the boy to a pulp, and his punishment was so harsh. But it was worth it, and he  _never_  regretted his actions.

"Back in the day, it was complicated. Everyone said the child wouldn't last to take over the throne. But that was the last concern in his parent's mind. They just wanted their son to live. And that's where Rasputin came in."

Charles comes back to his side, bringing his axe down into the wood. He takes a moment to enjoy the sight. It always amazes him; the man his son has become.

Vasyl couldn't possibly be more proud of him.

"Some people still doubt his so called mystic abilities to this day. I say they're a band of fools. He did what no doctor ever could. Saved the tsarevich's life countless times. Of course, the royal family took a liking to him. Especially the tsarina."

"What happened to him?"

Heaving a sigh, Vasyl carries some more wood over to the cart. "His influence over the tsar was not seen with good eyes. So he was lured and killed by conservative noblemen."

"And the boy?"

"Killed too. The whole family. When that  _blasted_  revolution came. Their murder was unnecessary if you ask me."

Scowling, Charles brings the last of the logs to the cart. They're done here.

"Why kill innocent children?"

Shrugging, Vasyl starts pulling the cart with him. "Stupidity. Presumption. Four beautiful, golden-hearted young women, a sick kid, and their parents... They posed no threat. They could have been exiled. Sadly, things didn't go that way."

Shaking his head, Charles thinks about the tragic story in silence for a while.

Vasyl can't believe it when he speaks again. "Russia seems like an interesting place. So huge. So vast. Sure there must be a lot of remote, distant places to see. Places untouched by civilization."

"You're right.  _Cold_  places. No matter the time of the year. Siberia.  _Verkhoyansk_ , Charles. I can't describe it with words. You should see it with your own eyes."

"I will." Is all Charles says, mind already filled with possibilities. How he yearns to see such places with Eleanor... Just the two of them, in a secret winter paradise.

Looks like he'll have to add a dot to Siberia on the map back at their cabin.

He'll do it with pleasure.

All those places... It will be just the two of them, living life to the fullest.

_Just the two of them._

* * *

**6 days later**

_Looks like it's not just the two of us anymore._

The familiar lullaby of chirping crickets and breaking waves can be heard outside as Eleanor stares at his perfect sleeping face. It's dark in their shelter, but she can still see each little detail, each unique feature.

_How will those features look, mixed with hers?_

Her period is three days late.

_Of course._ Now she's 100% certain.

Looking away from Charles' face, she glances down at her bare stomach.

Just to think that there's a tiny, microscopic beating heart in there... And the worst thing is, she's still completely numb. Maybe she's too monstrous, of course she's unable to feel attached to her own child...

She's broken beyond repair, of  _course_  things don't work the way they're supposed to. Not with her.

_**Never**  with her._

What on earth is she doing keeping this pregnancy, if she doesn't feel any love towards the embryo developing in her womb?

Will she  _really_  be just like her father? Is  _this_  the way Richard feels about her?

She's now becoming what she hates the most. A cold-hearted monster unable to love her own child.

**_Like father, like daughter._ **

Looking at her pirate's face again, she swallows hard.

"I suppose you are going to be a father."

Her words are a quiet whisper in the dead of night, and for a moment, she regrets them. But Charles doesn't stir, and she touches the anchor pendant.

"Now the question is... How am I going to muster up the courage to... really tell you about it? And how are you going to react? Will you feel numb, like me?"

He's still sound asleep. She's grateful for that.

Snuggling closer, Eleanor sighs in satisfaction as his arms close around her. He subconsciously holds her close, wanting her even in his sleep.

"Sweet dreams." She whispers again, closing her tired eyes and not daring to actually speak the next sentence. It remains only in her mind.

_Sweet dreams, father of my child._

Sleep takes her over quickly. She does not realize it, but her free hand comes to rest over her lower stomach, over her womb, the other one still holding on to Charles' necklace.

A soft sigh escapes her as she falls asleep.

Her fingers squeeze her own exposed skin protectively.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I mentioned how much I love to dive into Eleanor's emotions? No? Well at this point I think everyone has realized that already lol.
> 
> Hopefully her first reaction to that discovery is realistic enough. It's harder than I thought it would be, writing her in this situation. And Charles will be even more complicated, I'm sure XD


	54. First Kiss

**Nassau, Bahamas**

**07:30 AM**

"I have gathered a total of 15 recruits. For now, that is. Shady outlaws eager for a way out of here."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Scott nods at Flint. The good news help calm his nerves, but he's still out of his mind with worry.

"What's the plan for their return? Are the seas safe enough?" He inquiries, cleaning a few glasses behind the counter as Gates watched them in silence.

"Good question. We need to know  _exactly_ what Rogers is up to. It's not like him to just back down and return to LA. Even if he has a son there, he wouldn't just give up. Especially if we consider the fact that he believes Eleanor's life is in danger. I don't like his silence, it gives me a bad feeling." He says, heaving a sigh and rubbing his forehead. Scott can see the dark bags under his eyes, he's probably having some trouble sleeping. "Maybe they will go to the chateau after leaving the Island. To get the child. I spoke to Vane the other day, he plans to leave Eleanor in there, where it's safe... and then he'll go confront Rogers himself. She will only find out about it when the day comes."

Indignation flickers through Scott's eyes and he immediately stops what he's doing. He knows his China Doll, he knows exactly what she's going to feel when she learns about those plans, every single emotion that will tear at her battered heart. And he also knows how she's going to react.

"Sounds like him. Eleanor will be livid."

Shrugging dismissively, Flint leans against the other side of the counter. "She will, and their relationship will probably be damaged again, but given the current situation... There are far more important matters at stake. It's the best move I can see. That little shit is not expecting Vane to go to him. He thinks their priority is to flee. He'll be caught off guard. I say we trust him with this."

Scott is shaking his head before he's even finished speaking. "No. This has  _everything_  to fail. I will try and find another way, so Vane won't need to risk his neck like that. And so  _she_  won't get hurt. Another load of emotional pain is the last thing she needs."

Flint narrows his eyes at him, and he doesn't back down. Sensing the heavy atmosphere, Gates clears his throat and forces a smile. "Who's caring for Vane's little sister?"

Flint hesitates for a couple of seconds before looking away from Scott. He never loses the sour look, though.

"Mary. Ex-lover of his." His already tired eyes suddenly become a bit somber. "And Billy."

Raising his eyebrows, Gates can't contain his half smile. " _Billy_."

There are a few costumers in the early hours of morning, all of them simply having breakfast. Gone are the days when this place was filled with rum-obsessed pirates from dawn to dusk.

Still smiling, Gates speaks again. "And they will be coming here soon. Does he remember me?"

Repressing the urge to roll his eyes, Flint pushes off the counter.

"He remembers everything. Excuse me."

Just as he turns in the direction of the exit, he comes face to face with a certain curly-haired con man. Their eyes lock for a brief moment, then he's ducking his head and walking away.

He's sure, by the look he saw in John's eyes, that the younger man also heard their conversation about Billy.

_Yet another storm to come._

* * *

**Shih Island**

**06:30 PM**

Every muscle of her body protests.

She feels ready to sleep for hours, her breathing is coming out ragged, Eleanor feels as if they've been practicing for  _hours_. And the worst thing is that it's been only a few minutes since their last break.

Sweat trails down her back, her overheated skin making her even grumpier.

Anne surges forward again, and her eyes widen when she notices the redhead is aiming for her stomach. The rawest of instincts takes her over and she blocks the blow as best as she can, actually managing to punch her new teacher in the jaw.

A little harder than necessary.

She can sense Anne's surprise. They weren't supposed to be hitting hard like she just did, and the truth is that there's no logical explanation for what just happened. When she saw the little brute's fist coming straight at her stomach, something inside her just snapped for a moment. Anger flowed through her veins and she suddenly felt a thousand times stronger.

_All she could think about was the embryo._

And she's still completely numb about its existence, so her reaction makes no sense at all...

A gasp leaves her lips when Anne counterattacks, taking advantage of the blonde's distraction and using one of her legs to trip her.

Thank God the sand is so soft.

Sighing heavily, Eleanor closes her eyes for just a second, digging her fingertips into the sand while lying on her back.

"Again." That gruff, insistent voice says. She glares daggers at the other woman even as she helps her to her feet.

"You need to slow down."

Snorting, Anne circles her like a predator.

"You ain't learning shit if I slow down."

With those words, she's surging forward again. There was no warning at all.

And she thought Charles was an insufferable teacher... At least he showed her mercy from times to times.

Struggling to keep up, Eleanor tries to ignore the fatigue as best as she can, blocking every attack with some difficulty. Her technique is nowhere near as flawless as Anne's, each and every move is faulty, but at least she's not getting her ass kicked. She mainly defends herself, not too confident about actually fighting back for now... When the blows aren't aimed at her stomach, that is.

For the past week or so, they've been practicing every night, and she can actually say there was significant progress already. With each passing day, however, she feels it's getting harder and harder to keep up with Anne.

Hell, she's barely managing her daily chores. Fatigue is a frequent visitor, and even Charles has noticed. She often falls asleep before he returns from his nightly baths in the ocean, and he never has the heart to wake her up. No matter how  _hungry_  he is for her.

Swallowing hard, she tries to ignore the exhaustion. Maybe it will go away. Stubbornly, she forces her body to keep going, successfully blocking out all those symptoms... Until dizziness takes her over, a wave of nausea crashing over her.

She's rushing over to one of the palm trees, despite her teacher's protests, and plopping down on the sand.

Her breathing is heavy as if she's just spent hours running, and she closes her eyes with a choked whimper, leaning her head back against the palm tree and mentally  _urging_  the nausea to go away...

"The  _fuck's_  wrong with you?" Anne's voice sounds distant, and for a moment she prepares herself to vomit.

But then the sickness subsides, and she dares to open her eyes a little, testing the waters.

"Seriously, cunt?"

Still breathing heavily, she looks up at the redhead. She could be going insane, but Anne seems a little bit concerned.

"Just give me a minute, please."

Any signs of worry are erased when she says that, and Anne rolls her eyes.

"It's  _all_  I've been doin' tonight. Or the last  _three_  nights. You may be able to reach Charles with your puppy eyes and whiny drama, but you'll have no pity or mercy from me.  _Get. Up._ "

For a moment, she's resolute on going back to their practice. Just to shut Anne up, just to prove that she  _can_.

But that tiny embryo seems to have other plans, and the nausea threatens to come back when she gets to her feet.

"Let's just call it a night. I'm not... I'm not feeling too well."

Narrowing her eyes, Anne shakes her head immediately. "Charles gave me an order-"

"Well then, tell Charles to go fuck himself!" She snaps all of a sudden, her voice sounding harsher and  _louder_  than she intended.

Anne falls silent, clearly taken aback at her outburst. Swallowing hard, Eleanor takes a look around. Thankfully, they're alone at one of the far ends of the beach, so no one from the campgrounds was around to witness or  _hear_  this scene.

In a heartbeat, her intense anger gives place to the deepest anguish; she just wants to curl herself into a ball and cry.

_Those freaking mood swings are taking their toll on her._

"Just leave me the fuck alone, will you?" Eleanor says, her voice quiet and tired this time.

Tears burn in her eyes as she turns around, going into the jungle and heading to the little makeshift staircase that led up to the hill. She actually  _prays_  there will be phone signal...

This is too much, this sadness is too much, and she  _needs_  him.

She needs to hear his voice. It's the only thing that can possibly give her some comfort right now.

_His voice. She just needs to hear his soothing voice._

* * *

**Los Angeles**

**06:00 AM**

Her fingers squeeze the empty spot beside her, and Sarah opens her eyes slowly.

She can hear the shower running in the adjacent bathroom, a smile tugging at her lips as she rubs the sleep from her eyes.

It feels just like their married time, or all these occasions when he would spend the night with her then get ready for work at her place, after the divorce.

The only difference is that she's still in her nightgown; nothing happened last night.

He's been doing it since the little staircase incident 9 days ago, sleeping by her side every night, but never touching her. Part of her is still willing to believe he does it out of concern, or as a way to offer her some comfort, but she knows full well it's nothing but emotional manipulation.

He's probably also making sure she won't try to escape the house with Aiden in the dead of night, as she often feels tempted to do.

Stretching briefly, she's satisfied to notice her wrist doesn't hurt anymore. Moving it experimentally, she looks at the bedside table on her ex-husband's side of the bed.

The screen of his phone has just lit up, and curiosity gets the best of her.

The shower is still running, so Sarah moves to the other side of the bed, grabbing the device and typing in the password. The date of Aiden's birth, combined with Mason's and Eleanor's.

The only three people who matter to Woodes. She's not included, not anymore.

Ignoring the sting of tears in her eyes, she scrolls through all the messages that simply continue to arrive in his mailbox.

_Reports_. Reports from all over the world.

She also finds the record he keeps... And a virtual map, one he can interact with. Careful not to alter it in any way, she lets her eyes skim over the continents and countries. A frown comes to her face. It's worse than she thought.

He has spies on every single port in North and South America, in the UK and a few in Europe. As well as in the west coast of Africa.

_Every. Single. Port._

He  _really_  wasn't kidding, was he?

The Maldives are also covered, but he has no eyes or ears in the East coast of Africa, or Asia... Australia is completely free of his spies too.

For  _now_. He's probably working on that already.

She sees his strategy so clearly. His spies are also present in almost every island of the world, those isolated spots in the middle of the ocean... Those spots a ship is most likely to retreat to, in case supplies need to be replenished, or an emergency arises.

If the ship has to make port, he will know...  _immediately_.

Suddenly, the ocean doesn't seem so vast anymore, and finding one little sailboat doesn't seem so impossible. She does wonder, however. Where on earth is that ship right now?

Glancing at the door to the bathroom, Sarah concludes she still has some time.

This rush of prying into his business never ceases to make her smile, even if her heart breaks to see all the effort he's putting into this. Into finding Eleanor, who doesn't even need to be rescued.

Her eyebrows raise when she finds some more info. His spies in the Bahamas managed to find pictures of the Ranger. She also learns that Eleanor was the one who bought it in the first place. It was probably a gift to her lover.

_This girl **really**  doesn't need a rescue party..._

The pictures are from several months ago, nearly an year ago, when the ship was still on sale. These were probably hard to find.

Suddenly, this urge comes over her. Hastily, Sarah grabs her own phone and begins to photograph it all. All the data, the map, every single country, whether there were spies or not.

She doesn't understand it, but something tells her she should have all that data at hand. Something tells her she should study it.

Her eyes go back to the picture of the Ranger, and she analyzes all the little details.

It's a beautiful ship.  _So_  beautiful, she has to admit it.

_Eleanor has fine taste._

* * *

**Shih Island**

**09:00 PM**

By the time she finally heard that " _Yes?_ ", her tears were already flowing freely.

Eleanor spent two hours up here trying to call him, trying to get signal. She was about to give up when that soothing voice filled her ears, and she nearly choked on her emotions.

She thought she wouldn't hear it tonight.

Wiping her tears away, she tries to keep her voice neutral.

"How is my tavern? Is business going well?"

She thinks it was successful; her attempt at masking the anguish in her voice, but then there's a moment of silence from the other side of the line.

Sure enough, when he speaks again, his voice is filled with worry.

_"Child, what is it?"_

An involuntary sob leaves her lips. Damn it, if he was here right now, she'd happily toss her pride into the ocean below and throw herself into his arms. She'd let him hold her as she cried, and hell, how she  _misses_  the feeling of his hand cradling the back of her head protectively.

The words are slipping through her lips almost immediately; a flow of half-truths and grief-filled statements.

She talks him about her worries, the impending war, her pirate's safety. She tells him about  _the Spaniard_ , and for a moment he seems ready to fly over to Phuket, to swim all the way to this hellish island.

But she makes him promise he won't.

Scott sighs heavily, and she can picture the look on his face as if he's right here, right in front of her.

Staring at the Ranger, anchored in the bay, she waits until he speaks again. The sight of her beautiful, beloved ship only brings fresh tears to her eyes.

How she longs to feel the wood under her fingertips again, to feel that gentle rocking, smell that familiar scent and hear the creaking wood all around them... As they sail back home.

She's so tired of this stupid island, so freaking homesick...

This is starting to feel just like when she was stuck in that dark, cold prison cell, all alone,  _yearning_  for the warmth of her home.

_"Just hold on. Flint is going to help. He will be there soon, victory will be yours and you will be coming back to your family in no time."_

Letting out a humorless, dry laugh, she wipes her tears away again.

"You see, that's the thing. I don't even know if we  _can_. I don't feel the seas are safe enough. That  _bastard_  must be up to something, I feel it in my bones. I just need... I need someone who can give me info."

He stays silent for a while, probably thinking. When he speaks, her scowl is automatic.

_"Have you thought about... Contacting **him** somehow?"_

Scoffing, she does her best to ignore a minor wave of nausea.

"Are you  _insane_? Contacting Woodes-"

_"Eleanor. Think. It's the only way. You're the only one who'd be able to get this sort of info out of him."_

The mere thought of hearing that voice again is already enough to make her antsy as fuck. But to think she'd probably have to fake despair, to beg him to come "save" her from Charles...

It just makes her sick to her stomach, and this time it's  _nothing_  to do with the embryo in her womb.

And how in the world is she going to make up an excuse? Would he believe her if she said her "captor" simply forgot a phone right within her reach? Wouldn't he realize she was just trying to trick him?

Briefly, she wonders what would happen, if he learned she simply doesn't want anything to do with him anymore. How would he react? Would his anger speak louder than his so called " _love_ ", would he want revenge against both Charles  _and_  her?

She's not really eager to find out.

"I will need to make sure my phone is untraceable first. Then, when we're at the chateau, after we leave here... I will call him and find out where he stands."

Her heart skips a beat. She's not looking forward to hearing his voice again, and by that time... She will probably be starting to show already. Or  _about_  to.

She will have no other choice but to tell Charles about the pregnancy, and that thought is just as terrifying as the idea of speaking to Woodes again after all this time.

As Scott finally bends and tells her about the tavern and business, she can hardly listen to a word he's saying. Her emotions are all over the place and she suddenly  _wants_ him to know. She just does.

Touching her stomach, she swallows hard.

"Dad-" Her voice is a broken thing; strained, quiet and desperate all at the same time.

He immediately falls silent. This is only the third time, in her whole life, that she calls him  _that._  So of course, he knows something's going on. Something big.

_"Eleanor, what's wrong?"_

Her throat is suddenly dry, her tears breaking the dam and flowing freely again as a quick sob escaped her lips. This is so damn difficult.

To say those words out loud.

But God, she just wants him to know.

"I... I'm..."

It's as if the words get stuck in her throat, refusing to come out, no matter how hard she tries.

She  _can't_.

"...I'm just so eager to go back home. I miss you so much."

He sighs in relief on the other side of the line. The emotion in his voice makes her heart break.

_"My China doll. I miss you too. Terribly so."_

Forcing herself to smile, she revels in the small sliver of comfort brought by his words, listening as he told her everything would be just fine.

But as soon as she ends the call, it's as if her whole world is crumbling again.

Every single day.  _Every single day_  she has those panic attacks. Just like in the past life, when she first discovered the pregnancy.

A million thoughts attack her all at once.

_How_  is she going to tell him? What if she finds a way to ensure that he never has to know?

Her insecurities soon give place to more somber scenarios.

What if Charles dies in battle? Who will keep her safe from Teach? What if she's left all alone, and Woodes finds her? What will he do to her?

_What will he do to the **child**?_

But she won't be alone, right? Even if he dies. She'll have Flint to keep her safe-

But she won't have the man she loves.

_Who_  is she trying to fool? Nowadays, Charles' safety and well being are just as important as hers... She doesn't want to lose him, or to see him suffer. Even though she still hates him to death sometimes.

What if she tells him about the pregnancy, would that keep him from throwing himself into this war? Or maybe he will just get scared and walk away, like his own father did...

_Would he actually do that?_

She's sobbing by now, sitting near the edge of the hill, her arms wrapped around herself.

Where the  _fuck_  is her strength, and how in the world did she get into this mess? If only there was a reset button, one she could press to turn back time... So she'd wake up tomorrow in the safety of her island, Charles, the crew, Jack and Anne safe with them. No Somalia, no Phuket, no Ching Shih, no Spaniards,  _no pregnancy_ -

"What were you  _really_  going to tell him?" A familiar gruff voice brings her back from her little pity party, harshly.

Startled, she jumps to her feet, quickly wiping her tears away and turning around. She forces a smile, hoping the darkness of night will be enough to hide her swollen eyes and red face.

"Anne. God. You scared the shit out of me."

There's a strange look on the redhead's face as she approaches her slowly, carefully. A mix of confusion, suspicion, something she can't really decode and the faintest trace of concern.

"Cunt. I ain't stupid, something's up with you. I saw you crying. It's  _not_  like you." Her fake smile falls, and she's frozen as Anne finally stops in front of her. "Don't forget I'm a woman too. We notice stuff... and I noticed you've been acting strange. What's going on?"

Letting out a shuddering breath, she shakes her head. That's what she gets for showing weakness.

"Eleanor. Tell me." The last time she heard this woman use such a gentle tone was probably back when Charles got shot... But she's soon back to normal. "Or I'll go to him and let him know something's wrong. It's part of our duty to watch over you."

Panic rises in her chest and she actually reaches out to grab a hold of Anne's shoulder, a rushed " _no_ " leaving her lips.

The redhead raises an eyebrow at this gesture, and Eleanor mentally kicks herself for her despair.

_There's probably no turning back now._

"You have to promise-  _promise_  me you won't tell him."

"That depends on what I'll hear... Are you sick? Something wrong with you?"

Taking a deep breath, she raises her chin.

For some reason, the words don't get stuck in her throat this time.

"I'm  _pregnant_ , Anne."

It surprises her, the ease with which she said it. Her voice did break a little and she sounded far from happy or even calm. But she wasn't expecting it to be so easy.

Anne is staring at her, analyzing her face. Scowling, she shakes her head and crinkles her nose.

"No, you  _ain't_." Despite her words, the redhead averts her eyes, remembering something. "The thermometer..."

Swallowing hard and trying not keep her panic at bay, Eleanor nods at her.

"Yes. Exactly."

Anne's eyes drop to her stomach for a moment, and she does her best to ignore her discomfort.

"There's a..."

"An embryo, at this point."

Meeting her eyes again, Anne frowns. It's like she's having some trouble processing this new information. "So you gonna bring my niece or nephew into this world?"

It sounds like a stupid question at first, but Eleanor understands what she's doing. What she's trying to ask.

_Are you keeping the pregnancy?_

"That's how it works, yeah."

In the dark of the night, Eleanor swears she can see the corners of Anne's lips twitching up. Her eyes are suddenly filled with something that resembles  _happiness_.

"So he's gonna be a dad. And I'm gonna be an aunt."

_She's definitely having some trouble processing this._

Eleanor reaches for both her shoulders this time, surprised when she doesn't flinch away.

" _Don't_  tell him.  _Please_."

"He's gotta know sooner or later."

Nodding, Eleanor glances down in the direction of the camp.

"He  _will_. I just need to gather the courage, that's all."

Anne studies her face for a few moments, eyes narrowed. Relief floods her heart as the redhead gives her a curt nod, sealing their agreement just like that.

And strangely, now that she knows her secret's safe, Eleanor feels almost... content. It felt nice, to tell another woman. To  _talk_  to another woman.

She wishes Max was here to help. Or Madi, or Idelle, Mary, Agatha, hell, maybe even her mother. She just wanted to share this with another woman, and not through a stupid phone call.

Now that Anne knows, she feels so much safer. So much more confident. In a strange, but pleasant way.

_A very pleasant way._

"What's that face?" She asks, as they're making their way down the hill and back to the campgrounds. The community is having some sort of celebration tonight, and the faint sounds of the "party" are already filling their ears.

Anne meets her eyes, the ghost of a smile on her lips.

"I'm...  _happy_ , cunt. I'm happy."

She's genuinely surprised, and it takes her a few moments to smile back and continue their walk.

Eleanor comes so dangerously close to saying " _me too_ " that she actually has to bite her tongue.

This time, however, the thought doesn't make her terrified at all.

* * *

**Nassau, Bahamas**

**11:00 AM**

Those dark eyes are filled with disbelief, a frown refusing to leave her beautiful face. Sighing, John tries to reach for her hands but she moves them away.

"So you're going with Flint."

She sounds disappointed. But also heartbroken. It makes him feel so guilty.

"I am, gorgeous. It's decided."

Raising an eyebrow, Madi crosses her arms over her chest.

"And does Flint  _know_?"

His weak smile falls, and he ducks his head.

"He will... soon enough." She scoffs at his words, turning her back to him and walking over to their bed. He follows close behind, wanting to fix this as soon as possible. " _Hey_. I'm going to help them win that war, so your sister can be safe. Don't you want her to come back home soon, in one piece?"

Her eyes seem haunted as she sits down on the mattress. As if she's reliving some bad memories.

"I just want us to live in peace, John. This new environment, this new, non-violent life. It's like a  _blessing_  we've been graced with. Now, with that war, I feel as if we're revisiting the past. It's already bad enough we have to live in this house, where I nearly died."

He lowers his eyes to the floor. They really need to move out, to find a place just for the two of them...

Scott will hate his guts for that, but it will be needed.

"Don't get me wrong. I want my sister to be safe, I  _do_ , but I don't want to watch you guys leave. I already know I'll be out of my mind with worry for Flint, but if you go too..." She tries, finally meeting his eyes again, and he offers her a warm half smile.

"I  _need_  to go, gorgeous."

"Why?"

The question he was dreading. He had hoped it wouldn't come.

His face becomes serious, and of course her curiosity only grows.

"Why? You don't care about Eleanor. Or about the other three. Or their crew. And yet, you're willing to risk your life, taking part in their war...  _Why_ , John?"

He turns around, walking over to one of the windows in their room so he could stare outside.

This part of the island is still sort of isolated; for a moment he could swear they're back in the 18th century... But those modern buildings, probably luxurious hotels, loom in the distance. He can see them.

Shaking his head briefly, John lets out a heavy sigh.

"Because of  _him_."

His words are met with silence, and a few seconds go by before he speaks again.

"He's hoping to die. I need to go, to keep him from doing something stupid. Or else... The day he leaves this island will be the last we'll ever see of him. I can say that for certain." There's a sad look on his face as he turns around to face her again, shrugging. "And I just can't let that happen."

Her eyes soften. He makes his way over to their bed, sitting by her side.

"There is so much hidden. So much we can't see. So much  _pain_. I believe that... Thomas' tragic fate has destroyed him far more than we can possibly imagine."

Moving so her chin was resting on his shoulder, Madi scowls again.

"He doesn't deserve this."

"Well,  _karma_  seems to disagree." John says, reaching for her hand and locking their fingers together on his left thigh. She raises her head, meeting his eyes as he forces a smile.

"So may I go, your Highness? I know you always have the last word." He jokes, and she narrows her eyes at him. There's a little smile tugging at her lips though.

"Smart con man. You may... But if you die, I'll kill you... again."

He has to laugh at her words. "Well I don't doubt you'd be able to bring me back to life... Just to murder me again. Those Spaniards would look like angry puppies, if compared to you."

His teasing remarks make her smile widen, but it soon fades away. Concern fills her eyes again and he kisses her lips briefly.

"I will be back. Gotta keep you safe, after all."

She scoffs at that. "From what? Or rather,  _who_?"

He just stares at her face for a few seconds. Then he's pulling her closer, resting his chin on the top of her head, his left arm around her shoulders.

"Just gotta keep you safe...  _that's all_."

* * *

**Bavarian Alps**

**06:00 PM**

Davina will probably stay mad at them for a long,  _long_  time.

His heart clenches as they make their way through the woods, and he remembers the pout to his little cousin's lips when they were about to head out the door

She  _really_  wanted to join them in their adventurous exploration, but it was just too cold outside and Billy was forced to tell her  _no_  for the first time ever. She didn't deal too well with that, throwing a huge temper tantrum and only calming down when Mary gave her "the look".

He still feels guilty, his mind already coming up with ideas. He'll have to make it up to her.

It wasn't a mistake, he wasn't cruel, it  _is_ too cold for a child out here...

Still, guilt gnaws at his heart whenever he remembers the sad look on her face. She was even wearing her little boots already...

"She will be fine." A sweet voice brings him back to the here and now, and his smile comes automatically when he meets Abigail's eyes. "We'll just have to play a little with her, then she'll be back to normal. Trust me."

"I really hope so."

"You're not used to telling her ' _no_ ', are you?"

He shakes his head, reaching to pull a few branches that were blocking the way. "That was actually the first time ever. Well, second, if you count the time when Charles got shot and I refused to let her go visit him. But those were Mary's orders, I didn't tell her no. I simply kept her from going into his room, back at the medical center."

Abigail nods at his words, staying silent for a while.

"The pirates. What happened to them and the headquarters, after we left?"

"I don't know. And honestly, I don't care. That life is behind me. Now, everything that matters is Davina, Mary and  _you_."

He wasn't really meaning to speak that last part out loud.

Her eyes widen briefly and he knows that the blush on her cheeks has nothing to do with the cold weather. Neither of them addresses that statement, continuing their walk in silence.

Billy wonders what she wanted to show him. Whatever it is, it's far from the chateau. If only those stables were still filled with horses nowadays...

Suddenly, she stops, just as they reach a few thick branches. The vegetation blocks their view.

"As I said once before... When Eleanor and I were younger, she found her father's journal. She learned about a lot, from reading those pages. He wrote everything down. Everything about Caroline. There were times when he would write about a place they found together. The view was to die for, and it became their special spot. Of course, Eleanor wanted to find that spot as soon as she read about it. So we looked for it during one of our vacations at the chateau. And we found it."

She needs his help to pull those branches out of the way, but when they succeed, his breath catches.

They're at such a height, overlooking the rest of the mountains, and as the night falls, it's as if the snow is light blue in color.

A few other chateaus are scattered here and there, the stars are just starting to become visible. And even though Abigail has already seen this place before, she also needs some time to recover.

"They used to come here on horseback." She says, gesturing at the vast, beautiful winter wonderland. "Eleanor loved this place. It always made her feel closer to her long lost mom."

He can't find his own voice, and they just take in the breathtaking sight for a long while.

"Isn't it just the most beautiful thing you've ever set eyes on?"

As soon as the quiet question leaves her lips, his brain already recognizes a perfect opportunity.

She gave him the green light days ago, after that little scheme with blanket. She's not as innocent as he previously thought.

And hell, it's been  _months_  of insinuating looks.

"That depends." He begins, unable to believe himself. What if he  _scares_  her? "You're talking about the view, or about yourself?"

She doesn't look away from his face. She doesn't take a single step back. Her eyes glint with joy and she laughs.

"Who would have known you could be so  _cliché_?"

Shrugging he takes a step closer. His heart skips a beat as she does the same, biting her lower lip nervously.

"Well, Mary says it's a gift."

"It's adorable."

It feels like the most natural thing in the world. Billy reaches for her face, touching her cheeks with his gloved hands. Her eyes are wide but there's no sign of fear or even hesitance. They're filled with pure excitement and curiosity instead.

Just as she stands on her tiptoes, he bends down a little, meeting her halfway.

The image of her, sitting in the bowels of the ship and wearing a proper dress while staring at him with those big doe eyes flashes in his mind.

Here she is now, in his arms after all that time, letting him kiss her. Her gloved hands come to his chest and she pulls at the strings of his jacket playfully, silently telling him not to pull away.

He used to think Davina's hair was the softest thing his lips would ever touch, until this moment. The taste of her lip balm is intoxicating and he has to remind himself she's just a 16 year old girl every few seconds in order to keep his self-control. Suddenly, he's  _so grateful_  that Davina didn't come with them.

_This is finally happening._

She's not as inexperienced as he thought, but still shy.

_Eleanor is so going to slit his throat_ , the thought makes him smile into the kiss, then he's testing the waters by nibbling softly on her lower lip. One of her hands lets go of the string in his jacket, her arm slowly going around his neck. This process is repeated with her other arm, and he sees this as a good opportunity to hold her closer, his own arms safely around her waist.

She's lithe even with all those layers of clothing, and he tries so hard not to imagine what she'd look like without them.

_What the fuck is wrong with him?_

A gust of cold wind comes, blowing on her loose hair and making her tremble in his arms for a moment. This makes him hold her impossibly closer.

He's been letting his hair grow a little, ever since they arrived at the Guthrie chateau, and as her gloved fingers tangle in the short strands, he can't bring himself to regret it.

He honestly has no clue how much time passes. But when they finally part for air, she can't stop smiling at him.

He can't believe the words that leave her mouth.

"Not a one time thing, I hope."

He chuckles, and answers her doubt with a gentle, soft peck to her lips.

Night has fallen completely, he notices, kissing her forehead and not letting go of her for a second. She hides her face against his chest and he rests his chin on the top of her head, staring at the mountains with a stupid smile on his lips.

Eleanor is going to kill him, for certain. But he'll die a  _very_ happy man.

* * *

**Shih Island**

**11:00 PM**

Feeling the familiar, comforting burn of the rum as it goes down his throat, Charles takes a look around.

This stupid party the community decided to throw tonight actually makes the campgrounds look like their home... The old version of it.

People dance around the campfire, laughing and getting drunk. A few of them unceremoniously take their clothes off, rushing to the ocean and diving without a second thought.

His eyes find each member of the crew from times to times, he watches all of them like a hawk.

Jack is distracted with a teenage girl he's practically adopted. He's apparently teaching her how to make origami -  _stupid_  - and appraising each of her achievements like a proud big brother.

For a second, Charles' eyes soften. His best friend is probably still consumed by guilt because of what happened to baby Julia, over two decades ago.

Heaving a sigh, he takes another drink from his flask, the gift he received back on his birthday. His eyes easily find  _her_ across the camp, and he's pleasantly surprised to see that Anne is still by her side.

It's unbelievable, really. His protégée hasn't left her alone for a second, ever since the two of them came down from the hill. She's acting so strange, he's never seen her like this before. She's behaving almost like a protective jaguar caring for her newborn cubs.

_Are these two finally friends now?_

He really hopes so. Maybe their daily fighting practice sessions are bringing them closer.

His heart swells with love as he watches his two girls, hypnotized. Anne offers Eleanor a mug of rum, which the blonde promptly refuses. As if remembering something, his protégée immediately sets the mug aside, almost in an apologetic way... Then she's reaching for a coconut on one of the makeshifts tables nearby, grabbing a pointy rock from the ground and breaking it open.

Eleanor hesitates for a moment, but then grabs the coconut from her hands with a weak, but honest smile. Anne seems pleased with herself.

Watching this scene, Charles frowns in confusion.

His Pirate Queen is  _not_  drinking. Coming to think of it, she didn't even have her weekly wine with Jack when they were reading on the beach two nights ago. It's been their ritual, ever since the beginnings of their friendship, and that was the first time she broke it.

He finds it strange. Maybe she's taking a break from alcohol, out of concern for her health or some other bullshit like that?

_Maybe..._

"A word, Vane?"

He's almost startled by the sudden voice right beside him. He didn't even hear a thing as Madame Shih approached him.

After taking one last look at his two precious treasures, he closes his flask and gets to his feet, following her to the largest tent right at the back of the campgrounds.

The sounds of the party are muffled as she lets the flap fall closed behind them. Her accommodations smell of incense, as usual, a faint glow coming from the various paper lanterns.

He catches sight of Vasyl, sitting in front of the low table in the middle of the tent.

After stalling for a moment, Charles heads over to it too, sitting down by the Russian's side as Madame Shih sat across from them.

"I was supposed to visit their estate this afternoon. As I do every month, to discuss business." She finally speaks after a few moments of heavy silence. He scowls at her.

"And did you?"

The shake of her head is barely perceptible. "Esteban, the family leader, came to talk to me at the borders. He has let me know... That the estate is going through a few changes. Apparently, they have a new presence. In short, they don't want me there. We conducted business through the borders. It's the first time this ever happens."

His scowl only grows, an unpleasant feeling going down his spine.

" _Whose_  presence?" He asks gruffly, and she shrugs in response.

"I don't know... What I know is that we need to act...  _Urgently_. I don't like this."

Lowering his eyes, he clenches his jaw. Vasyl is watching him closely, and he's well aware of that.

"Three weeks. Our next mainland visit is in three weeks. An ally of ours will be waiting at Phuket with new recruits."

Madame Shih nods at him, a tired look on her face. "Let's just hope nothing happens before that."

Knowing their little meeting was over, he gets to his feet and walks over to the flap. It's unnerving, whenever Eleanor is out of his sight... Considering the fact that her killer is here, on this very island-

"Vane." The Asian's voice stops him just as he's about to leave the tent. He meets her eyes again. "Stay close to her."

Frowning at the cryptic message, he waits to see if she'll say anything else. And she does.

"She is...  _vulnerable_  right now. Just protect her."

His confusion only grows. But he knows exactly who she's talking about, and this is a task he never needed anyone telling him to do.

So he nods in agreement, finally leaving the tent. His eyes are already seeking Eleanor as he makes his way back to the celebrations, his heart filling with relief when he finds her in the very same spot, Anne still by her side like a guard dog.

_Just protect her._

Opening his flask, he takes a drink, eyes not leaving his stubborn queen.

_Always. Always, he will keep her safe and sound. No matter what._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a feeling I got a little bit carried away with Billy and Abbie, it was just their first kiss... But that's how things work with me :P Hopefully I managed to keep things innocent enough.
> 
> And if anyone thinks that Eleanor is being too whiny and weak lately, I have two words for you: Pregnancy. Hormones. ;) lol but she'll go back to normal soon, so don't worry.


	55. Burning

**_Nassau, Bahamas_ **

**_Three centuries ago_ **

_She's shaking again._

_Huffing in annoyance, Eleanor sets the quill aside and reaches for her jacket. The sun is high outside, it's the middle of the afternoon, but she's **cold.**_

_Her fever must be getting worse._

_Shivering, she rubs her forehead. Her head is pounding and she feels so weak. All her joints and muscles are achy, her eyes are sore and the bed behind the partition is such a huge temptation..._

_Shaking her head, she swallows hard and forces herself to go back to her work. She may be feeling so damn miserable, but there's no way in hell she'll just give up-_

_The double doors are suddenly flung open and she raises her head from her papers, doing her best to look menacing even in her current, fragile state._

**_Who had the audacity-_ **

_Her mood only gets worse, although her traitorous heart skips a beat when her eyes settle on the intruder._

_"Scott said you're sick." He begins, before she even gets the chance to open her mouth. Only then, she notices he has a bag with him._

_"Get out."_

_Sure enough, he just closes the doors behind him, unfazed by her harsh tone, stepping further into the office._

_She soon notices that Charles is acting differently. He's almost awkward. Tilting her head to the side, she waits to see what will come next._

_When he comes over to her chair and feels her forehead, she tries to slap his hand away. But he grabs a firm hold of her wrist, and she hisses in protest due to her sore joints._

_"You are making it worse." She says through gritted teeth, expecting him to back away._

_But he doesn't let go of her, forcing her to her feet and dragging her over to the bed instead._

_The first thing that comes to her mind is that he wants to have his way with her. That explains why he came here all of a sudden-_

_She frowns when he forces her to sit down on the mattress, then he's rummaging through that old, worn bag he's brought with him._

_"Jack knows a thing or two about herbs. He said this one's supposed to ease your headache. But I haven't a clue how to make tea, so here..." He trails off, handing her the herbs in question, wrapped in thin paper._

_Eleanor stares at it for a few seconds, then slowly looks up at his face._

_"You want it or not?" His voice is gruff, but she sees something in his eyes._

_It's not the usual lust for her, the one that comes whenever they're this close, it's not amusement or anger..._

_It's something that comes so damn close to the look Scott has, whenever he's **worried** about her well being._

_But it's not possible, is it? She's been sleeping with this man for the past couple of months and it's just that, he shouldn't care like this._

_He **doesn't.**_

_Right?_

_"Thank you." She mumbles, finally accepting the offered herbs from him._

_The smell is strong and the taste is foul, but she forces herself to swallow._

_"He said it's also supposed to dull your pain... If your muscles are aching."_

_"They are." Grimacing, Eleanor shakes her head. "I wish that one day, medicine will be so advanced... That we won't have to taste herbs and remedies anymore, they will all come wrapped... In something we can ingest. Or they will have no flavor whatsoever."_

_He scoffs, and she sees a trace of amusement in his eyes. "That's absurd."_

_"It will be perfectly possible one day, and when that day comes, I will rub it in your face. However long that takes."_

_She gets to her feet, intending to go back to her work, but he's pushing her back into bed before she can even take a single step._

_"You will do nothing but **rest**  for the remainder of the day."_

_Narrowing her eyes at him, she tries to get up again, like a stubborn child. He doesn't let her._

_"I have **a lot**  to take care of-"_

_"Then take care of it tomorrow. I can help, if that's the case."_

_She can't believe him._

_Maybe this is just a feverish delirium._

_A dozen times she tries to go back to work and a dozen times he fights, keeping her in bed or standing in her way to the desk. By the time the sun is starting to go down, she's so exhausted that her eyes fall closed on their own._

_She wakes up hours later, to a pleasant smell. Her head and muscles feel a lot better, and a smile actually tugs at her lips when she realizes that Charles had brought a bowl of soup for her._

_They don't say another word to each other as the hours go by, and she expects him to leave at any moment._

_He doesn't._

_Later, when she's starting to fall asleep again, he extinguishes the candles on her desk for her. Next thing she knows is that he's getting under the covers too, shirtless, and his exposed skin is a **very welcome**  source of warmth._

_He doesn't even try to seduce her. It's endearing and unsettling, all at the sane time._

_In the morning, when she wakes with the sun, he's gone. His unique scent lingers, and she could swear that the empty spot on the mattress still feels a little bit warm._

_Heaving a sigh, she stares up at the ceiling, trying to comprehend what just took place between them._ _His behavior makes no sense at all. Unless he's developing feelings for her, sooner than she expected?_

_Such a hardened pirate... Developing feelings for **her.**_

_It makes her feel proud, powerful, and Eleanor **likes**  that. She likes it so much, that she fails to notice just how elated she feels, her own heart filling with foreign, unfamiliar feelings._

_This strange, calm night they shared, she never mentions it again._

_And neither does Charles._

* * *

**Shih Island**

**Present days**

**01:00 AM**

As the flap falls closed behind her, Eleanor just wishes they could be spending the night on the ship. The stupid party is still in full swing outside, and under normal circumstances, she could actually be enjoying it...

But she's just so tired, irritable, absolutely  _fed up_  with this freaky place and to top it all off, she can't even  _drink_  to improve her mood a little bit.

Hell, she can't even sleep, with all that commotion outside. She's longing for some silence, silence disrupted only by the familiar lullaby of creaking wood and a few gentle waves against the hull...

After plopping down on their bunk and removing her shoes, she suddenly shivers. Her forehead feels a little warmer than usual tonight and she reaches for the blanket just as Charles comes into their tent too, the flask she gave him in one hand, rum bottle in other.

"What did Madame Shih want?" She asks immediately, watching as he took a drink from the flask.

"She said 'the others' didn't let her into the estate today. There's a new presence in there, and she's worried about it. Three weeks-" He steps closer to the bunk, offering the flask to her. She accepts it out of habit. "It's all we can afford to wait. After we collect Flint and his recruits at the mainland, we attack. The very same night, before those bastards can even become aware of their presence. So start preparing. I'll send you to the ship just in case, when the day comes. Jack will keep an eye on you."

Narrowing her eyes, she keeps the flask on her lap, never bringing it to her lips. "...and sail the ship away from here in case shit happens, right? I am  _not_ leaving this place without you, and also, I'm sure you know he would never leave Anne behind."

"I got Anne." His voice sounds a little too harsh to her liking. "If things get ugly, he  _will_  take you away, whether he likes it or not. He can come back later,  _alone_ , but his foremost obligation will be to ensure your safety."

She rolls her eyes, too exhausted to think about this whole thing now. She can just yell at him in the morning.

"That flask's not gonna bite your lips off, you know."

A chill goes down her spine and she hands the flask back to him, much to his confusion.

"You're refusing rum? It's your favorite."

"I don't feel like drinking."

He scowls at her words, and her discomfort only grows as he studies her closely. It feels as if he can see right through her...

"Why?"

_Because our child is growing in my womb right now, that's why... And even if I'm completely numb about him or her, I don't want to mess things up._

Biting her tongue briefly, she shakes her head. Each word he says tonight only seems to make her mood worse.

"I don't know, just... I've got a headache. And I can actually  _survive_  without alcohol, unlike some people."

Her acid tone doesn't go unnoticed.

"What's going on?" Charles asks, closing the small distance to the bunk and grabbing a hold of her chin. Forcing her to look him in the eyes. "Are you sick? You've been acting strange."

She slaps his hand away, bringing her legs up on the bunk and moving away from him until her back touched the log wall.

"My stress levels have never been so fucking high before,  _that's what's wrong_." She spits the three last words out as if they're poison, glaring daggers at him. "And you can't even  _understand_  me, understand what I'm going through-"

"You think  _you're_  the only one who's been having a hard time?" He interrupts her, and she can't help but jump slightly as she hears how angry he sounds. "I haven't seen my sister in four months. You don't see me whining like a bitch and taking my stress out on others."

She scoffs, but decides to hold her tongue. Her eyes follow him as he gets ready for bed.

"When we left home, I was planning to talk to Mary and convince her to come back to Nassau with us, this stupid detour wasn't in my plans. Being forced away from Davina  _again_  wasn't in my plans." His temper is starting to flare and he needs a few moments to calm down. When he speaks again, his voice is significantly quieter. "Almost  _everything_  that's been happening lately wasn't part of my plan."

Those words hit her right where it hurts, even though she knows he's not talking about the baby. He's completely clueless about that tiny embryo developing in her womb.

But it still hurts like  _hell_ , and of course, she blames those blasted raging hormones for that.

"What if we just left? We gather the crew in the middle of the night and leave this place behind, while Shih is asleep. I can face your uncle with you, we could stop running away." She suggests, just as he makes his way to the bunk again. He snorts in response.

"And what makes you think he won't try to kill you immediately?"

After hesitating for a moment, she shrugs. "Trust me... I know  _exactly_ how to ensure my survival."

_No matter how angry he is, how much he **despises**  me, he would  **never**  kill your child._

"I gave her my word." Shaking his head, Charles finally sits on the edge of the mattress, keeping his back to her. "I gave her my word and I will  _not_  walk away from her now. From this place."

Scoffing, she makes a move to touch him, already opening her mouth to protest. But he glances at her over his shoulder with cold eyes, and his words immediately make her stop.

"Some of us... actually know what's the meaning of the word  _loyalty_."

It feels like a cruel stab to her heart.

Tears come immediately, but she refuses to let them out. Even if her emotions are so intensified and messy now, not even all those hormones are stronger than the urge to  _win_. To fake strength at all costs.

She won't give him this victory.

_Or any other._

"Fuck you, Charles."

Half expecting him to leave their shelter, she lies down on her side, keeping her back to him him and moving as further away from his body as she possibly can.

After what feels like an eternity, when she's already pretending to be asleep, Charles finally lies down too.

He makes no move to touch her, and she misses the physical contact far more than she would ever admit out loud. Swallowing her pride for a brief second, she steals a quick glance at him over her shoulder. He also has his back to her. The sight is painful.

She's grown used to sleeping in his arms...  _Addicted_ , would be a better term.

But it doesn't matter.

She fought against this painful abstinence in the past, for so long. She can  _easily_  do it again.

* * *

**Bavarian Alps**

**08:00 PM**

When she lets go of his hand, just as they reach the front double doors, Billy tries to ignore the brief twinge of pain in his heart. They walked all the way back to the chateau hand in hand, taking their time, talking and enjoying the cold. Abigail kept saying she wasn't scared of the dark, but every time there was a different sound, she would grip his hand tighter.

And now that they're here again, it's like their little bubble has been burst.

But he needs to understand. She's a shy, young girl, maybe she simply doesn't want Mary to see them like this. And to be honest, neither does he. He loves his cousin, but she can be a royal pain in the ass sometimes.

As soon as they step inside, Billy sees her.

Davina is sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace, her arms crossed over her chest. One look is enough to let them know she's still fuming. Glaring deadly daggers at them, she pouts.

"I tried to call Charlie." She announces, watching as they took their coats off. "Mama said his phone was off. But I'm still going to tell him you didn't let me go see the forest with you, cousin Billy."

Trying not to laugh or smile at her threats, he walks over to the couch. Davina moves away when he tries to ruffle her hair.

"Now, don't be like that, munchkin. I just didn't want you to get sick, that's all."

"But you took Abbie! You  _always_  take Abbie, you're  _always_  doing things with Abbie!"

It hits him now. So  _this_  is what that massive temper tantrum was about?

Davina didn't get angry because he told her " _no_ ".

She's  _jealous_. Of course she is, it's only natural. This is the first time she has to share his attention with anyone else other than Mary.

He glances at Abigail over his shoulder, grateful to see that she's keeping her distance and giving them a moment.

"Munchkin..." Heaving a sigh, he sits on the couch too, right beside her. "She's not stealing your place, alright? There are just... things I can only do with her, and things I can only do with you. It's normal. Like when Mary and I used to play poker, remember? I couldn't do that with you, because you didn't know how to play. I'm sorry you're feeling left out... I promise to spend more time with you from now on, alright?"

She finally makes eye contact with him, starting to relax. "And you promise to take me to see the forest too?"

"Just the two of us. When it's not too cold outside." He holds out his pinkyfinger, and she eyes it suspiciously before doing the same and sealing their agreement. A smile tugs at her lips and she looks over at Abigail, almost shyly.

"Mama said I had to apologize. Because I yelled at you."

Smiling warmly, the teen makes her way over to the couch too.

"We accept your apologies, little one. Now... Why don't you go get my phone? It's in my purse upstairs. We could take some pictures, with those fun filters you love. What do you think?"

She immediately perks up, nodding enthusiastically and jumping to her feet.

As she rushes up the grand staircase, Billy sighs in relief.

"That was easier than I expected. But I feel awful now. I didn't realize I wasn't giving her enough attention."

"You  _were_ giving her enough attention. You always do. But it's normal for her to feel jealous, to demand more of your attention, now that I'm around... Children her age, especially ones with such a rocky past, are just needy like that. You didn't do anything wrong."

He nods at her, a glint coming to his eyes when she sits by his side and reaches for his hand again. The crackling and soft glow from the fireplace creates a soothing atmosphere as she rests her head on his shoulder, still somewhat unsure of her actions. But loving every second of  _this_ , just like him.

_What_  is this?

Neither knows for certain, but they both decide to just enjoy those pleasant feelings for now. Later, they can try to understand them.

Her hair is so soft against his cheek, his thumb rubbing slow circles on the skin of her hand... They don't even realize Davina is taking so long to return. Until she slowly comes down the stairs again, holding something to her chest. They assume it's the cellphone.

Moving back into a less compromising position, they share a quick look, smiling at each other.

"Abbie..."

The peaceful, calm and perfect atmosphere is broken.

Davina sounds so confused, sad, even scared, as she comes to stand in front of the couch. Her eyes are filled with a thousand emotions, and glinting with unshed tears. Only then they notice it's not a phone she's holding, but an old photograph instead.

"What's wrong, munchkin?"

She doesn't meet her big cousin's eyes. When she offers the photo to Abigail, Billy can see a young woman, obviously wealthy. Her dark hair frames a porcelain face, so pale, so haunted. There's a crazed glint in her eyes, contrasting with her clean looks and expensive jewelry.

Davina's lower lip trembles as she speaks again, barely containing her tears.

" _Why_  do you have a picture of my old mama?"

* * *

_**Shih Island** _

_**02:30 AM** _

_So cold._

_So absurdly cold. It's **never**  like this in the Bahamas, what's going on?_

_Everything hurts, her whole body, every single muscle, every single joint. Her head is killing her._

_Her fever must have gotten worse again, and she just hopes that Charles is still here, lying by her side in bed, at her office. She could really use his warmth right now._

_Eleanor opens her eyes, expecting to find him._

_But all she sees is a crowd._

_Even though the sun is high in the sky, everything is eerily dark. Like the night._

_Max is by her side, and she tries to ask what's going on, only to choke on the words. Her former lover is glaring at her, as if she's just broken her heart all over again._

_"You will get what you deserve."_

_She scowls at the cold, harsh voice. Max glances down at her stomach, and only then she notices her own baby bump._

_"So many longing for a child, and this blessing is given to ungrateful **whores**  such as you instead."_

_Tears burn in her eyes, guilt taking her over._

_"Why are you talking like this?" She manages to ask, but her voice is barely audible._

_"Because you deserve nothing but suffering... Look what you're doing-" She gestures at the crowd, but Eleanor doesn't look away from her face. "...is this what you wanted? Why do you always have to destroy every single thing you touch? Daddy dearest taught you **so**  well, didn't he?"_

_Her eyes widen. When Max asks that last question, her voice changes into Charles'. But it's back to normal when she speaks again._

_"There will be consequences. What did you do? Why?" Max is advancing towards her now, and she starts to take steps backwards. The crowd starts to scream angry words, all directed at her._

_" **Look**  what you did!"_

_Her former lover's spine chilling yell prompts her to look away. Her eyes settle on a familiar hanging corpse not too far from them, the spasms already dying down. Her tears finally flow freely._

_Eleanor notices they're close to the front edge of the patio, but the steps are nowhere to be seen. And it shouldn't be this high... If she steps over the edge, it's a good ten feet fall._

_Not to mention the angry mob waiting for her down there, with all sorts of sharp blades..._

_Pushing Max away, she runs to the large doors, trying to go back inside the mansion, where it was safe._

_"It's locked, child."_

**_Scott. Thank God._ **

_She rushes over to him, but he doesn't let her get too close._

_"You bring me nothing but **shame.** "_

_It feels as if her heart has just been slashed open._

_He starts to help Max, both of them trying to corner her, to make her move closer and closer to the edge. She briefly notices that Flint is here too, leaning against the wall and watching the scene, showing no interest in helping her._

_She's close to panicking, feeling abandoned, hopeless, terrified-_

_Her back hits something solid and she turns around. A broken sigh of relief leaves her lips._

_"Jack, **please-** "_

_He silences her with a sharp gesture, then grabs both her arms. His grip is tight enough to bruise,it fucking **hurts,**  and Anne is sneering at her by his side._

_"Should have thought twice before killing him, hummingbird. He can't save you now."_

_His tone holds no affection at all when he says the nickname. Only mockery and hatred._

_She steals another glance at Charles' dead body, then Jack finally pushes her over the edge violently._

_The last thing she sees before the mob attacks is her family, coldly staring down at her from the patio._

* * *

Strong hands grab her arms again, and she tries to fight. She  _can't_  let those people hurt her, or the baby-

"Stop. It's okay."

Sobbing, she punches a firm chest, kicking her legs desperately.

"Eleanor,  _stop_."

Her eyes snap open, and she's greeted with unique features, familiar cheekbones, long hair...

"I'm alive. It's okay. Everything's just fine."

Trying to come back from the horrible, vivid nightmare, she lets out a shuddering breath, hiding her face in his hair.

He hesitates for a second before letting go of her wrists and holding her close. His skin hardly touches hers, she's wrapped in the thick blanket. The cold from the nightmare is still here, and the same can be said for the pain in her muscles, her eyes-

"So much for giving you the cold shoulder." Charles grumbles, his rough voice contrasting with the gentle caresses of his fingers as he rubs her back through the blanket in a reassuring manner.

A violent tremor takes her over, and her teeth start chattering as she snuggles closer, desperately seeking some warmth.

"I'm cold." Her voice is nothing but a broken whimper and she squeezes her sore eyes shut - only to open them again just a second later, terrified of going back to her nightmare.

Charles frowns at the uncharacteristic behavior, noticing how hard she's trembling. Pulling the blanket away, he feels the skin of her arms, then moves to press his cheek to her forehead.

His eyes widen.

"Eleanor, you're  _burning up_."

She whines weakly in complaint when he jumps to his feet, barely remembering to pull on a pair of muddy bermuda shorts before rushing out of their shelter.

Nearly tripping on his own feet, Charles runs inside the neighboring tent. In his haste to get his hands on Jack's stash, he ends up knocking a suitcase down from the wooden table near the hammock.

Anne is wide awake in a split second, grabbing her knife from under her pillow, but he pays her no mind, going through his friend's various boxes of medicine.

"What on earth?" Jack finally grumbles from the bunk, and Anne relaxes after seeing there was no threat.

He's letting most of the boxes fall from the bag, searching eagerly and impatiently. Only after he grabs some ibuprofen and aspirin does he look at his two partners in crime.

"She has a really bad fever." Is all Charles says, and Jack is quick to get out of bed as he rushes to the tent flap. He barely manages to reach his leader in time.

"No,  _no_." Jack says, grabbing the two boxes from his hands and retrieving some Tylenol from his stash. "Take this one instead."

"Why?"

Giving him a look, Jack tries to repress a yawn. "Who spent  _years_  reading medical books while you and Anne went out to get stinking drunk?"

Charles just rolls his eyes in response.

"Yes, that's right."

"Did she tell you anything?" He asks gruffly, grabbing the box of Tylenol from his best friend's hand. "She's acting strange, and now this fever-"

"She didn't mention anything to me. What about you, darling?"

They both glance over at the bunk, where Anne is sitting, and she shrugs. "Nothing."

After giving them both one last, suspicious look, Charles leaves their tent.

Heaving a sigh, Jack rubs the sleep from his eyes. "He is  _so_  going to kill us both, when he finds out."

"Is it normal?" Genuinely surprised by the amount of concern in Anne's voice, he meets her eyes across their tent. "Having a fever while you're pregnant..."

"Depends on the fever..." Grabbing the thermometer from his stash, he forces a smile. "I'll go check this out, be back soon."

* * *

"Guess you got what you wanted, after 300 years." Charles says watching her closely as she swallows the tasteless medicine.

For a moment, she's confused, but then the corners of her lips twitch up. Her face soon becomes somber again though.

"I was feeling the effects of the fever in my nightmare. At first, I thought I was back in that evening... I thought I would open my eyes and see you, the office. But instead..."

Frowning, Charles strokes her chin. His free hand secures the blanket around her shoulders.

"It wasn't just the hanging... Was it?"

Fighting against her tears, she shakes her head.

"It was the worst one ever... Everyone hated me... Even  _Scott_. He said he was ashamed of me. Jack pushed me to the mob, they all wanted my head. And I was..." She pauses, remembering the baby bump. And deciding not to mention it. "...so hopeless. I felt abandoned.  _Unloved_. Alone again."

Charles squeezes her hand, and her tears almost break the dam. Shivering, she moves closer to his body, just as Jack walks in through the flap.

"Quite the nightmare you had. Sorry, I ended up eavesdropping." He explains and she tenses up for a moment, those awful images still plaguing her mind. "Apologies for what my bad dream self did to you. I'll make sure to find him and kick his ass for that later, the bastard... How are you feeling, little sunflower?"

Affection is clear as day in his tone even as he jokes, and she can't help but breathe out a sigh of relief. Charles rolls his eyes. He's not the biggest fan of all those stupid, sickening little nicknames his best friend insists on coming up with.

"Miserable as fuck. Everything hurts, and I'm so damn cold. I feel as if it's snowing outside."

"Just wait for a while. The medicine you took will probably help."

He notices the way her eyes widen briefly. They communicate without words, and then she's meeting Charles' eyes.

"Can you get me some more water?"

He nods promptly, letting go of her hand and getting to his feet.

"Bring an extra bucket of water and a rag from the shed too, it will make her feel better to have something cool on her forehead." Jack says, watching as he left the tent.

Before Eleanor can even ask, he's already answering.

"No. Nothing will happen. Tylenol is safe for pregnant women. Charles was going to give you aspirin and ibuprofen at first, before I intervened... Now  _that_  would have been risky."

She nods weakly. Her eyes are haunted, still filled with fear, and he sits on the mattress by her side. After taking her temperature, he grabs both her hands.

"That bad dream was brought on by the fever, hummingbird. It's perfectly normal, don't let it get to you. No one hates you, not anymore. Not even Anne. We're your  _family_ , and we will  _never_  turn our backs on you..." He hesitates, eyes dropping to her stomach for a split second. "...or the little one."

"I had a baby bump in the nightmare." Her words are rushed, but he still understands, squeezing her hands and encouraging her to continue.

"Judging by the size, I was in the second trimester. About five months, maybe. But I'm not sure if it was this one..." She swallows hard, scowling a little, as if she's utterly disgusted by what she's about to say. "...or if it was Woodes'."

Jack sighs heavily, opening his mouth to speak, but she's faster.

"This nightmare brought it to the surface."

"What?"

Shaking her head, she lets out a shuddering breath. Her eyes are moist, tears just about to fall, but she's fighting hard not to let that happen.

"Since the day we found out about... my current state, I have been feeling... Strange. Something simply doesn't feel right. It's  _different_  from my first pregnancy, I don't know... Something... Just feels so  _wrong_."

Offering her a smile, he brushes her hair behind her ear before using his palm to wipe away the sweat on her forehead. "This time around, you're carrying the child of a man you  _truly_  love. One you have history with. The  _right_ person. Maybe this is causing some sort of conflict inside you and making you feel this way?"

She shakes her head in disagreement, but remains silent. Her eyes are now glued to the tent flap.

"Try not to stress too much about it-"

"Is this normal? Considering my current state, is this fever normal?"

He detects a hint of urgency in her tone. Glancing at the thermometer again, he bites his lower lip for a second, choosing his words carefully.

"Such a high fever... No, it's  _not_  normal, love. It could be nothing. It's probably nothing. But we really need to work on getting your temperature down, or it could be harmful to the little one. You see, this first trimester is the most critical stage. The most unstable and dangerous phase of any pregnancy. We need to be very careful, if anything goes wrong, it could cause irreversible damage to the baby."

" _Embryo_." She says, a bit too harshly, but he understands.

She's still having some trouble with the word baby. And she's actually right, it  _is_  just an alien-looking embryo at this point, but he just can't help picturing a perfectly developed newborn with a full head of dark hair and piercing blue-green eyes, every single time he thinks about his little niece or nephew. Which is often.

Definitely in uncle mode already.

Still, the last thing Jack wants is to scare her even further, so he nods.

"Embryo, right."

Since she's still looking at the flap, he steals a glance at her stomach. A warm smile plays on his lips for a moment, and he knows he won't be getting any more sleep until her fever goes down.

_"Still in the womb... And you're already keeping your uncle Jack awake at night, aren't you, little love?"_ He thinks, biting his tongue to avoid saying the words out loud.

"And you say you're numb. You're already concerned about the embryo's well being." He says after a few seconds, and she meets his eyes again.

"I just-"

"No. I won't  _force_  you to acknowledge that. Not yet. It will happen naturally, anyway. And I'll stay here until morning comes, if need be. Until I'm sure you're okay. I heard the fight earlier, so I want to make sure Charles will treat will properly now."

The corners of her lips twitch up and he winks at her. "I got you, hummingbird."

Charles comes back through the flap, giving her the mug of water and setting the bucket on the dirt ground.

"Her temperature is at 101.6, it's bad, but we'll keep an eye on it." Jack says, and Charles grabs the thermometer from him. Even though he has no clue how to do this, he's still concerned enough to check the reading himself. "If it doesn't go down in say, half an hour or so, we start using other methods... Lie back down, darling."

She obeys, her eyelids starting to feel heavy again.

"Place it over her forehead." Jack instructs as his leader dips the rag into the water bucket.

The cool sensation is amazing on her overheated skin, and the bunk creaks a little as Charles settles by her side again, not lying down but letting her use his lap as a pillow.

His calloused fingers caress her hair, thumb stroking her cheek from times to times. It soon begins to lull her back to sleep.

One of her hands is still in Jack's, but the free one ends up coming to rest over her lower stomach. She doesn't even realize it.

Barely awake, Eleanor can hear their distant voices as they talk.

"If it doesn't go down soon, she'll need a cold bath... Or whatever comes closer to that."

"The water from the springs is cold during the night."

" _No_..." She whines, grimacing a little before sleep finally claims her again.

Both men are resolute on staying by her side until she's better, no matter how long that takes. And thankfully, they soon realize they won't need to wake her up for a cruel, cold bath.

The fever starts to go down.

* * *

The main living room of this mansion still amazes him. The ceiling is so high, he can't even see it in the dark.

There's a large stone fireplace, probably handmade. Expensive couches surround it, and there are rugs scattered haphazardly all over the place. During daytime, when the ceiling is visible, Teach can see it's completely covered in spider webs. Just like many other places of the mansion. His new allies have no regard at all for tidiness.

He sees a lone figure in front of the fireplace, soon recognizing Esteban.

"Unable to fall asleep?" The Spaniard asks, just as he comes to stand by his side, and he nods.

"From times to times, it's impossible."

The marks all over his arms, legs and stomach are the culprits. Randomly, they hurt as if he's actually reliving that torture from three centuries ago. At first, he used to cry in agony whenever it happened. But over the decades, he's exercised his self control enough. The pain is here, it's just as strong as it ever was, but he handles it well. He hides it well.

Still, ignoring it to the point of managing to go to sleep is  _impossible_.

"In three weeks, they are supposed to visit the mainland."

Not looking at Esteban, he scowls. "' _Supposed_ '?"

"Your mission will be to block the strait with that huge boat of yours. No one leaves the island. No one from the community, much less its leader. It will be your chance to prove your worth to us. If everything goes well, if you get those rats to surrender, then you'll be our new business partner. Just as you requested."

"What will become of the community?"

Shrugging, Esteban flexes his wrist near the fire. "Harvest is hard work. I plan on using them as slaves to save us that trouble. We can't afford to let them leave. They have mouths, they can talk. And they all know about the plantations."

"And those who refuse? Becoming a slave is not exactly an appealing idea."

There's noise from behind them, and Teach looks over his shoulder. But he can't see anything, the rest of the living room is shrouded in darkness.

"It's either slavery or  _death_. Let them decide. As for Shih, we want her head no matter what."

His heart sinks. He can't understand why.

There's some noise again, as if someone's stumbling on the rugs, and he can hear heavy breathing all of a sudden. Then there's a spine-chilling laughter. This time, Esteban looks over his shoulder too.

" _¡Javier!_ " He whistles, scowling at the darkness. " _¡Cállate ya, carajo!_ "

His orders are obeyed, and silence returns. Esteban glances at his new ally for a moment, then nods at the shadows again. "Sal de ahí y déjate ver."

Again, his orders are promptly obeyed.

A man steps out of the darkness, his face almost completely covered by long, greasy hair. His smell is strong and sickening, and he's eyeing the fireplace suspiciously. He seems scared of it. Red marks cover his hands and exposed forearms, as if he's been burned.

But what catches Teach's attention is his right shoulder. The fabric of his shirt should be covering it, but it's torn to shreds. As if he tore it himself.

And what the hole in his shirt exposes actually brings a grimace to the giant's face.

There's a large, strange looking wound. Different from everything he's ever seen before. It looks as if it's tried to heal countless times before, only to be disturbed and aggravated all over again. It looks like a bloody cavity in Javier's shoulder, and Teach suddenly notices that the weird individual's fingers are covered in red.

"La rubia." Javier says to him, as if he's revealing the most important secret in the world.

This only makes him even more confused.

_The blonde?_

"This is my younger cousin, Javier. He's been crazy since birth, always muttering ' _the blonde, the blonde, the blonde_ '... No one could ever understand it. He refuses to say anything else about the subject. His nails are unnaturally strong, sharp, and ever since he was a teenager, he's been scratching his shoulder to the point of creating a hole on it... Never letting it heal... We suspect it's a severe case of schizophrenia."

He nods as Esteban explains, glancing at him again. But his eyes soon return to Javier; he's fascinating in such a strange,  _morbid_  way...

"He's mental, but he's family... And one hell of a marksman. Most of those bodies hanging by the borders, he was the murderer of those people. This is the only reason why we decided to bring him here, instead of just leaving him in Phuket with the children and wives. He's a real machine."

A chill goes down his spine as Javier brings one of his hands to his shoulder, his fingertips digging into the wound. He shows no signs of pain.

Esteban actually chuckles at that. "You get used to seeing his little ritual. Don't worry. By the way, I suggest you begin to get acquainted with him. He will be useful when you go take over the campgrounds, because I don't want any of those rats to escape the island alive. And as I said..."

Finally meeting his eyes again, Teach straightens up. Trying to ignore his own pain.

"He aims to kill... And he  _never_  misses."


	56. Feral Children

_**Los Angeles** _

**_One year and five months ago_ **

_Staying as close to him as possible, Eleanor grips the helmet tighter while he unlocks the door._ _It always makes her nervous, when they're about to walk into the main space of this hideout._

_Because of his accomplices._

_Anne is completely hostile, glaring deadly daggers at her and staying tense all the time. As if it actually takes the redhead an enormous amount of self-control not to tear her to pieces and bathe in her blood. Jack is a little better, he doesn't really trust her either but he's polite, neutral._

_He probably thinks she'll sell them out to the authorities at any time, especially considering how close to the insufferable law enforcement manager her father has been getting. So Jack is careful with her, not really putting too much effort into making her feel welcome or happy during the nights she spends here. He leaves that to Charles._

_But at least he doesn't growl or fantasizes about murdering her in cold blood, unlike a certain savage redhead._

_As the door opens, she swallows hard, following Charles inside._

_Jack is reading on the old, worn couch, and she doesn't fail to notice the way his jaw clenches briefly as he looks over at them. He seems to be resisting the intense urge to roll his eyes._

_"Miss Guthrie." He greets her, nodding curtly and forcing a smile. "You're in luck. Anne just left to the Demeter. Nice timing."_

_Breathing a sigh of relief, she watches as Charles walks to his room after locking the door behind them. Jack and her watch each other in awkward silence for a moment._

_Still holding the helmet, she smiles weakly and finally follows her criminal._

_"Have a pleasant night." Jack says as she's closing the door, and she detects the briefest hint of acidity in his tone._

_Probably because he knows their noise will keep him awake for a **long**  time tonight._

_A blush comes to her cheeks and she takes the liberty of reaching for the key and locking the door._

_"Scared of Anne?" Charles teases. Her heart skips a beat as she turns around and looks at him._

_He's near the bed, removing his black leather jacket, this crooked half smirk on his lips as his eyes seem to glow in the dark._

_She can't find her voice._

_This happens all the time. Too often for her liking. He has the habit of leaving her speechless. Ever since that night when he put a knife to her throat back at her father's mansion. All she could see was his eyes, the rest of his face covered by a robber's mask._

_But back then, that pair of piercing, dangerous eyes, blue as the Caribbean sea... Eleanor remembered them from her nightmares, but she couldn't help but feel as if she had stared into those soulful eyes countless times before, as strange as that was._

_Maybe she'll never understand why this man has been haunting her at night since her childhood, she'll never understand why she knew what his face looked like, what his **voice**  sounded like, long before she met him._

_Maybe it's just a huge, crazy coincidence. It's the only rational explanation. **Somewhat**  rational, that is._

_But it's still way more acceptable than Idelle's insane theories about past lives and soulmates._

_Pushing those thoughts to the back of her mind, she places her helmet beside his on the dresser._

_There's something else she'll never understand._

_How in the world does he manage to do **this**  to her? To render her speechless, to make her smile like an idiot, to make her feel so damn needy? She can't even sleep when he's unable to spend the night by her side._

_It's **frustrating,**  but she can't seem to find the strength to fight this._

_She doesn't want to._

_Her heartbeat increases again when he pulls his shirt over his head, the anchor pendant of his necklace glinting in the moonlight that filters in through the only window in the room._

_He's so very different from everything she's used to._

_He's unpredictable and dangerous like a wild animal. He's intense and daring. He's sincere and true._

**_He's caring._ **

_His hair, untamed just like him, is rough and long. She never thought she would find it so attractive. His muscles are hard, defined, **warm.**_

_So warm._

_His bad boy looks... There are times when she just can't look away from him._

**_Like right now._ **

_He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused, and this finally brings her back to reality. Ducking her head, Eleanor mentally kicks herself._

_But she just can't help it. He's fascinating. He's handsome in his own unique way, his strong features so unlike anything she's ever seen before. The way he acts and carries himself also has her in pure awe. She was used to the clean, polished and robotic behavior of the men from the high society. Interacting with Charles is such a drastic change._

_A refreshing change._

_He **amazes**  her._

_His looks amaze her, his personality amazes her, his skills with the motorcycle, guns, fighting... His skills in bed..._

_Not to mention his **voice.**_

_"Most stunning creature alive." He says, using that bedroom voice that never fails to send a shiver down her spine._

_A smile plays on her lips, and she's been receiving compliments from men her whole life, but when they come from **this**  man in particular..._

_She's just so flattered._

_Goosebumps rise all over her arms as he unzips the back of her strapless, skin tight shirt. It's burgundy, and she was deeply pleased with Charles' reaction when she emerged from the mansion tonight and walked up to his motorcycle._

_Her eyes fall closed when he leans in to drop a kiss to her shoulder, unclasping her bra too and letting both garments fall to the floor. The feeling of his hard chest pressing against her exposed breasts sends a familiar wave of heat to her core, her arms going around his neck on their own accord._

_She wasn't supposed to feel so comfortable with him. Hell, they've been seeing each other for five weeks, only five weeks, and she already feels as if he knows her better than anyone. He **understands**  her better than anyone. It's almost as if they've known each other for centuries._

_Soon enough, she's naked on his bed, a predatory look in his eyes as he crawls over her her body and pins both her wrists above her head, using only one hand._

_Her eyes are glued to his, she's shivering due to the cool air on her exposed skin. Then something cold and hard touches one her breasts and she gasps in surprise._

_He's touching her with his gun._

_And she never thought this could feel so damn good._

_Her breathing starts to become heavier as he trails the weapon down her stomach slowly, teasingly. She's completely at his mercy and the feeling is so new. Unfamiliar, but not unwelcome._

_"Well if only Richard could see his proper little girl right now..." He says, close to her ear, and she can't help but smirk._

_For a moment, she actually wishes her father could see her now. He would be so disappointed. She also wishes that the pest who's been annoying her lately could witness this scene._

_All thoughts of her father and Rogers fly out the window as the gun reaches her navel, and she suddenly realizes just how much she trusts this criminal already._

_She has no idea if the weapon is loaded or not. He could end her life right now if he wanted to._

_Somehow, she just knows this is the last thing he wants._

_And soon, he's unable to resist her. Setting the gun on the bedside table, he claims her lips with his._

_Just as she predicted, they keep poor Jack awake until it's close to dawn._

* * *

**Shih Island,** **Present days**

**03:00 PM**

Eleanor is startled, to say the least, when her friend's hand comes to rest on her stomach.

They're reading and discussing about their current book in the shadow of their palm tree just like they do every afternoon, once their daily chores are taken care of. Her headis resting on his lap, and she stops talking as soon as his hand settles on her exposed belly.

Apparently he did it by accident.

"Sorry, darling. Uncle instincts. Is this okay?"

Eleanor is about to snap at him and go back to her tent, but for some reason, she just can't bring herself to move.

_It feels nice._

This is the first time someone else touches her stomach, out of affection for the embryo in her womb, and she's taken aback when tears burn in her eyes.

Unable to actually tell Jack that this was okay, she just goes back to reading, hoping he'll understand.

And he does.

The warmth of his hand... as  _absurd_  as it is, she actually feels as if it seeps through her skin, reaching the little life she's created with her pirate, and it feels so damn good.

It's  _love_ , and this is the first time that her tiny embryo is actually receiving it.

She knows it makes no difference at all to it, she's  _rational_  and she knows there's no way the embryo can feel anything at this point. It can't feel, it can't think, it can't even hear a thing.

_But still... It just feels nice._

They tense a little as Charles walks past the palm tree, his eyes lingering on them for a moment as he follows Vasyl to the mini harbor nearby.

Thankfully, he doesn't seem to suspect a thing, only seeing Jack's gesture as a display of affection for  _her_.

They're also lucky that Jack is one of the only men in the world who can touch her without making him jealous, along with Flint and Scott.

As soon as Charles is at a safe distance from them, she sighs in relief.

Eleanor wonders how long it will be before he begins to really notice how different things have been lately.

Jack is considerably more caring now, treating her like the most precious, delicate piece of china in the world. The nicknames are more frequent. He's also making sure she eats more and drinks plenty of water throughout the day, always asking her if she's keeping food down.

_And as for Anne..._

She suddenly became protective like a lioness, always watching Eleanor from afar and following her around.

Charles  _has_  noticed a few changes in her. He's noticed that her tastes have changed, she's now shying away from the sweetness of fruits, it makes her stomach churn. She mostly eats fish, and some chips they brought from the mainland.

Her cravings are salty foods. According to Jack, people say this is a sign of a baby boy.

She thinks these are just stupid myths.

"When are you going to tell Max?" He asks, and she stiffens a little.

"Maybe when we get home... And I greet my family with a small baby bump. If I'm brave enough, that is. There's still a chance I'll wear loose shirts until I just can't hide the pregnancy from them anymore."

Jack scoffs, his thumb stroking her stomach for a split second before he controls himself.

"And you think Scott won't realize it, the  _second_  he lays eyes on you? Please."

She scowls at his words, knowing he was right but trying not to acknowledge that.

"It's been five weeks and three days since implantation now. Which means you're eight weeks along."

"So?"

"So... I'm pretty certain you should be taking prenatal vitamins already."

Sighing heavily, she glances at their beloved ship near the strait.

"Are those really necessary?"

"See, that's why I think you should call Max. She studied about this subject, she graduated college... Me? I just read a book here and there, but I have no academic degree. I'd trust her word over mine if I were you."

"Yours is just fine to me."

"To  _you_ , and to the child?" She gives him a sharp look and he's quick to correct himself. "Embryo."

Breaking eye contact, Eleanor swallows hard as silence stretches for a while.

"You said you don't want to mess things up. Then at least think about it?"

His voice is gentle, and her scowl softens a little.

"I'll  _think_  about it." Something comes to her mind, and Eleanor hesitates for a few long moments before speaking again. "Just out of curiosity... Right now... What size is it?"

She doesn't need to look at Jack's face to know he's smiling.

"About the size of a bean."

For just a fraction of a second, there's a smile on her lips too.

"We're stuck on freaky island, while you should be going to doctors and preparing..."

Finally removing his hand from her stomach and getting to her feet, she shakes her head.

"I'll only give birth in seven months. There's plenty of time to prepare."

"Or maybe six, six and a half... It could be a preterm baby."

Scoffing at his words, she turns around, eager for some time alone in the springs.

_Wishful thinking._

There's noise from behind her and she stops in her tracks, looking over her shoulder.

Sure enough, Anne is right there.

Knowing there was nothing she could do, Eleanor rolls her eyes and continues the walk to the springs, the redhead following close behind like a personal bodyguard.

* * *

**Bavarian Alps**

**10:00 AM**

Staring out the window, Billy just can't stop frowning.

What are the odds?

The girl he found during a hunt, the girl he saved from a horrible death, was brought into this world by the very same woman who gave birth to his little angel.

The girl he saw in the bowels of a pirate ship three centuries ago is Davina's half-sister.

_What are the odds?_

"Davina doesn't seem to have a problem with it." Mary says, coming to stand by his side at the window.

They watch for a while as Abigail plays with their little girl outside, always making sure to secure Davina's scarf properly to protect her neck from the cold. They have gotten closer over the last week; surprisingly, they're the ones who had less trouble adapting and accepting this new reality.

But Mary and Billy are having a hard time. The surprise was  _huge_ , enough to stun them both for days. They couldn't believe it at first, and for a couple of days they just interrogated Davina about Victoria's last name. Eventually, the little girl remembered it was Ashe.

There was no way to deny it anymore, so they just stepped aside and let the two sisters enjoy their newly discovered bond.

Now he sees it, they have the same nose. Their eyebrows are even shaped in the same way, and while Davina has Vane's jawline, her cheekbones look like a copy of Abigail's.

"She's ecstatic." Billy agrees, the left corner of his lips twitching up.

They're both so happy. It's just so nice to see it. Of course, they both had a rocky past, they both have abandonment issues.

_Father issues, mother issues._

It's only natural that they immediately embrace their fraternal bond, welcoming a new sibling in their lives with open arms.

Davina was just so happy, back when she found Charles. It's like this joy has doubled now.

Even if this was such a huge shock to Billy, even if it was completely unexpected... if his little dinosaur is happy, if  _Abigail_  is happy, then he's happy too.

"Charles is _not_  going to like this." Mary says, sighing heavily, and he frowns.

"Why?"

"He  _hates_  Abigail to death. I don't know why, but from the moment I mentioned her presence, back at Teach's headquarters, he was livid. It was so strange. Things between him and Eleanor got toxic in a heartbeat, sparks flied, and I don't know if you noticed, but when we were about to get into that helicopter, he just kept glaring daggers at her. Poor girl was terrified."

Visiting the past for a moment, Billy nods to himself. Of course.

Some anger comes creeping in.

It's not Abigail's fault if these two idiots have all those issues to solve. It's not her fault if Eleanor was such a  _snake_.

She shouldn't have to face Vane's hatred. She didn't do anything.

Hell, she doesn't even  _remember_  the past.

When the others come here, he'll be sure to keep her safe from Vane's wrath.

"Davina means the world to him." He says after staying silent for a long time. "When he sees how happy she is, it'll speak louder than his anger."

Sighing to herself, Mary crosses her arms over his chest and they watch as Davina runs to the teen, hugging her waist. Her faint laughter fills their ears, making them smile softly.

"I hope so."

* * *

**Shih Island**

**04:00 PM**

"I spent two years under Albinus' ' _care_ '."

Anne practically spits the last word out, and Eleanor lowers her eyes as she thinks about the other woman's past. "Two entire years, and while he wasn't abusing me, I stayed with the dogs."

Frowning, she looks at the redhead's face.

"The  _dogs_?"

At first, Anne just watched her from the trees, but the heat of the island is so bad today that she ended up in the water with her. Eleanor is surprised that she's actually  _talking_  to her.

Still, she keeps her distance.

"I swear they took care of me. There was a shed in the backyard, it was where we slept. When it was cold, they kept me warm. The largest one would steal food from the house and bring it to me. Raw meat, sometimes. My memories from that time are all blurry, but I remember bits and pieces."

Her heart clenches as she imagines a 5 year old girl sleeping in a shed, hurt, traumatized and scared, relying on  _dogs_  to keep her alive.

She also remembers reading about feral children, long ago. Children who were raised by animals and as result, didn't know how to act like humans.

"But I remember almost nothing... from the day the police came, to the day I finally started adapting to life at the orphanage. Jack said it was bad. I didn't know more than a handful of words. 'Help'. 'Paw'. 'Meat'. 'Mom'. And finally, ' _no_ '. I used to say that last one a lot, back in the days, but it never really helped." She chuckles dryly at her words, and Eleanor tries not to show her pity. "He said that when I first arrived at the orphanage, I acted like an animal. I would bite people and growl like a dog. Probably missed the only family I knew."

She doesn't know what to say.

She doesn't even know why this woman is sharing all of this with her. So she stays silent.

"And Charles, well... He spent seven years alone in that place, before Jack arrived. He used to tell us about a pack of wild dogs he saw whenever he sneaked away to the woods. Only friends, only  _company_  he had for seven years."

A frown comes to her face.

Charles shared so much of his past with her, but she had no idea about this.

Forcing a smile, she shrugs.

"I can see why the two of you have gotten so close over the years."

"That asshole is important to me." Anne says, trying to keep her tone as nonchalant as possible and narrowing her eyes. " _Don't_  tell him I said that, or I'll show you what those dogs taught me about ripping flesh open with our own teeth... After my nephew or niece is born and safe, that is."

She can't help but laugh at that, despite the wave of insecurity that crashes over her when Anne speaks about the child's birth.

And her curiosity speaks louder.

"Why did you tell me that story?"

Anne stiffens a little, then dives briefly to soak her hair.

She'll probably get no answer, but it's not like she actually expected-

"I remember how the dogs used to act... When one of the females was expecting puppies."

At first, Eleanor just wants to laugh. But she soon realizes that the redhead is actually serious, and a warm feeling takes her over.

Their eyes meet across the small lagoon, and she raises an eyebrow.

"It was probably their  _instinct_ , to protect the unborn babies." Noise comes from the jungle, twigs breaking, and Anne is immediately looking all around them, ready for a fight. But no wild animal appears, and she relaxes a little. "Or maybe they just did that out of  _affection_  for the female. And for the puppies too."

"So you're...  _explaining_  yourself? Explaining why you feel the need to act like my bodyguard?"

The redhead shrugs, and a soft smile plays on her lips. She's quick to get rid of it though.

"Which one are you? I mean, are you following me around out of instinct or..."

Anne frowns at the question, eyes still searching around for any possible threats. " _Both_ , I guess."

"Well... look at us." Eleanor says a few minutes later, when they're getting out of the water and drying themselves. "Who would've ever known."

"You ain't gonna hurt him. I know that now. All you've been doin' since the day we steeped foot in Somalia is give us proof after proof... of your loyalty. To us. To  _him_. There's no reason for me to treat you like shit anymore. I also know you have a heart... And you're  _family_. Whether I like it or not... We take care of family."

Anne actually  _smiles_  at her. Even if it's barely perceptible, she does.

"It really means a lot to me. Thank you."

"Just don't expect me to start giving you ridiculous little nicknames like Jack does."

Laughing, she ties her wet hair into a ponytail after wringing it as best as she could.

"' _Cunt_ ' is enough for me."

"Good."

Just as they're about to start the way back to the camp, Anne touches her arm. Surprised, she meets her eyes with a questioning look on her face.

There's something she can't decode in the redhead's eyes as she glances down at her stomach.

"How does it work?"

Frowning, Eleanor stays silent, unsure what she meant by that. Luckily, she soon elaborates further.

"Since the kid got to the place where it was supposed to be and started developing, it's been five weeks. Does it even resemble a human being yet, or does it still look like an alien?"

Her voice is strangely quiet, almost gentle. It's strange.

"At this point... It probably looks just like an alien, yes. With little arms and legs that look more like paddles, like Jack said. He also said it should be starting to move around too, this week... This little bean-sized alien of mine."

" _Bean-sized_?" Anne is genuinely surprised, crinkling her nose as she tried to process that information. "How can something so  _small_  be already developing into a human being?"

She's definitely impressed. But then again, so is Eleanor.

"It's just an embryo but it's developing. That's how it goes. But you know, despite its small size, its heart is already beating fast."

There's a strange glint in Anne's eyes as she looks at her face again. "Can you feel that?"

"Hell,  _no_. It must be so tiny. Can you  _imagine_  it? But Jack told me."

"How does it feel? The... whole thing, I mean."

Eleanor grimaces, then lets out a heavy sigh. Turning around in the direction of the jungle, she shakes her head.

"Honestly? Awful. I feel as if all my energy is being drained. And I  _hate_  it. That bullshit, about how pregnancy is nothing but beautiful, immaculate, and the best part of a woman's life? It's just a bunch of  _crap_."

It feels good to vent like this. She can't bring herself to do it with Jack. He's so excited that she doesn't have the heart to burst his bubble. If she told him just how miserable she is, he would feel bad for her.

But with Anne, this is so much easier. And she smiles at the redhead as they finally start the trail that led back to camp.

"Why are you so curious?"

"Weird shit like that is interesting."

She laughs at the sincere words, but their peace is broken when someone suddenly appears in their way.

Anne immediately pulls her behind her body, harshly, somehow reaching for the knife strapped to her belt at the same time.

But they soon see that there's no threat.

Vasyl has a strange, unreadable look on his face. Eleanor's heart sinks as she realizes that he's heard their conversation.

Their  _entire_  conversation.

"Does Charles know?"

His voice is strained, as if he's battling with a thousand emotions right now, and she can't understand why.

Raising her chin, she walks around her new bodyguard, coming to stand right in front of the Russian.

"Not yet. And I expect you to respect my time. You won't mention a word about this to him. You  _don't want_  to antagonize me."

Part of her expects him to laugh. And she knows that Anne will show him just how serious she is if he does that.

But then he nods, his eyes dropping to her stomach for a moment. When he looks at her face again, she's taken aback by the tears glinting in his eyes.

_Why the hell is he so damn emotional?_

"May I...?"

The second he asks the question, his hand reaching for her belly and stopping in midair, the strangest, deepest instinct takes her over.

Eleanor barely knows this man. And she  _doesn't_  want him to touch her stomach the same way Jack did.

She doesn't want him to touch  ** _her_**  baby.

Startled by the strength of those feelings, she glares at him in warning.

" _No_. You may  _not_."

Anne is hot on her heels as she walks past the well-built Russian, going as fast as she can.

"The  _fuck's_  his problem, cunt?"

She scoffs, shaking her head.

"Wish I knew."

"If he starts getting on your nerves, if you feel something's off, you let me know."

She just nods. Suddenly, there's something on her mind, torturing her painfully.

A  _stranger_  knows.

A man she just met so recently, a man who holds no importance in her life, a shady Russian who has no special spot in her heart.

And  _the one person_  she should have told, besides the father of the baby...

Swallowing hard, she picks up her pace.

Intense guilt comes gnawing at her heart.

* * *

**Los Angeles**

**08:00 AM**

"Come on, sport." He tries to encourage his son, forcing a smile even as his patience runs thin. "You can't have mashed bananas every morning. This will be good for you, trust me."

Aiden is crying on his highchair, staring at his little bowl suspiciously. He doesn't like the green stuff his father is trying to get him to eat.

"What's the matter? I could hear him crying even while the shower was running." Sarah says as she comes into the kitchen, a concerned look on her face.

Her ex-husband clenches his jaw, trying to grasp at his self control.

"You  _spoiled_  this boy too much, that's the problem. I used the food processor to puree some broccoli for him and he refuses to eat."

"He doesn't like green." She explains, dropping a kiss to the baby's head. It seems to calm him down. "Just give him the usual and he'll stop fussing. I'll prepare his mashed bananas. I know he's a picky eater but his pediatrician said he'll be just fine with bananas and breast milk for now."

Aiden starts wailing again as soon as she walks away from the highchair. Shaking his head, Woodes grabs the spoon again, still trying to make their son accept the broccoli.

"I don't trust him. I always tell you we need another pediatrician, you know I have a gift when it comes to reading people. That man, I  _don't like_  him. My mother has raised two sons and she says it's alarming; how Aiden refuses anything but bananas and breast milk at almost ten months old. He needs more."

"You and your mother underestimate the power of breast milk. It already has everything he needs. Bananas are a plus. Trust me, he's fine."

He rolls his eyes as Sarah works at the counter, his son's cries making his head pound.

Over and over again, he tries to bring the spoon to Aiden's mouth, but it's useless. The baby is growing more and more upset with each of his failed attempts, and suddenly, it happens.

He would have never, in a million years, expected this.

One of Aiden's hands pushes the bowl away hard, and the contents of it spill all over his suit jacket. But the other tiny hand delivers a  _slap_  to his face.

His vision goes red.

"Spoiled brat-" He speaks through gritted teeth, grabbing his son from the highchair as Sarah rushes up to them.

"What happened?"

"He's just hit me in the face!" Aiden screams louder, squirming in his arms when he yells at his ex-wife. "You never punish him,  _that's_  the reason behind this rotten behavior of his!"

Sarah knows he wants to do just that. To punish their son physically. Her heart leaps to her throat and she somehow finds the strength to tear Aiden from his arms before he succeeds. The baby clings to her, hiding his face in the crook of her neck and sobbing violently. "He's not even ten months old yet! If you spank him, he won't even  _understand_  he's being punished, it  _won't_  work! And you could hurt him really bad, what were you thinking!"

Woodes scowls, taken aback by her ferocious behavior. For a moment, she regrets her outburst... The rage in his eyes is  _familiar_  and all her instincts are telling her to run.

But then his phone rings and he looks away from her.

It's apparently work on the other side of the line, and he removes his suit jacket. Thankfully, his pants and white shirt are intact. He rushes up the staircase and Sarah stands there, still in shock, trying to make Aiden calm down.

Not even a minute later he appears again, wearing a fresh, clean suit jacket.

Gesturing at the mess on the floor and his discarded piece of clothing, he shoots her a glare.

"You better clean that up before I come back. And we'll have a  _serious_  talk about that boy; hitting my face was too much."

He slams the door on his way out.

And Sarah feels as if she can finally breathe. Aiden stops crying as soon as he's gone.

Kissing the side of her son's head, she holds him tight. Looks like the calm weather has passed. It  _never_  lasts.

Her tears flow and she lets out a shuddering breath, ending up on her knees on the kitchen floor. Never letting go of her precious little boy.

Her source of strength.

* * *

**Shih Island**

**11:00 PM**

_"La rubia. La rubia."_

The crazed mumbles make him stop in his tracks.

Following the sickening wet sounds, Teach finds a grey, bloodstained curtain by the end of the corridor. He frowns, glancing over his shoulder for a moment before pulling it open.

A strange alcove is revealed, and he soon realizes it's somebody's accommodations. There's a cot. An unpleasant smell fills his nostrils.

_Blood, sweat and urine, probably._

A lone figure can be seen near the cot, a man crouching and attacking his own shoulder. Light from the corridor invades his disgusting nest, and Javier looks at him. He's greeted with laughter; though it sounds more like the screech of a dying animal.

The Spaniard rises to his normal stature, rushing over to him. His right hand is covered in blood, and Teach wonders how in the world they keep this thing from becoming infected. The strange individual seems happy to see him. Even though he tries to fight, Javier pulls him into the foul-smelling place.

He soon catches sight of a bottle of alcohol, his stomach churning as Javier grabs it and pours the liquid into his wounded shoulder without even flinching.

"Esteban said. Clean. Siempre."

His voice is eerie,  _haunting_ , and Teach frowns in surprise and confusion.

"You speak English."

"Algunas veces. Smart. Como Esteban. Como Rodrigo. No crazy, no. Smart. Astuto."

He truly is fascinating in the most morbid way possible.

"I believe you. Esteban said you're an excellent marksman."

He forces a smile, watching Javier closely. He also notices the empty plate near one of the walls.

"They keep you here most of the time, don't they? That's why you're never present at the dinner table. How do you feel about that?"

If Javier understands what he's asking, he ignores it completely.

"But they still take advantage of your skills, I see. They said you're going to go check the camp soon, with Rodrigo."

He nods.

"Rodrigo. Brother. Diego, también."

Those words take him a few months back in time.

Diego Ramirez.

Of course, his recruit, the one who vanished without a trace soon after Charles and Eleanor arrived at the headquarters. He never found out what happened to that man.

_Small world._

"Diego not here anymore."

Sighing, he gestures at the bottle of alcohol. "You  _are_  smart. You know you need to clean that wound. But why do you keep disturbing it? Why not let it heal?"

He seems to think for a moment, and Teach actually thinks they're making some progress.

_But then..._

"La rubia."

Clenching his jaw briefly, he shakes his head. Back to square one.

He knows he needs to find a way to reach this man, after all it will be him by his side, the day he goes take over the campgrounds. He needs to make sure Javier can be trusted.

"You know I'm  _not_  the enemy, don't you? You know we're on the same side."

"Sí, sí. Madame Shih, the  _bruja_ , the enemy."

Those words make him smirk.

"An exceptional marksman. With a decent grasp of a language that is not your own. And yet, mentally disturbed. Since birth. I wonder what happened to make you this way."

" _El fuego_!" Javier yells, taking him by surprise.

He waits a few seconds, making sure the Spaniard has calmed down.

"The fire?"

Javier rushes over to him again, touching his left arm. He tries not to flinch away when the younger man speaks. His breath is absolutely rotten, his teeth all doomed.

"No crazy, no. Simplemente recuerdo."

With those words, he laughs again, then goes back to his cot.

Scowling, Teach decides to leave him alone.

After closing the curtains, he begins the walk back to his sleeping quarters, always looking over his shoulder to make sure Javier wasn't following him.

The haunting words echo in his mind.

_Simplemente recuerdo._

* * *

_La rubia: The blonde._

_Siempre: Always._

_Algunas veces: Sometimes._

_Como: Like._

_Astuto: Cunning._

_También: Too._

_Sí: Yes._

_Bruja: Witch._

_Simplemente recuerdo: I simply remember._

* * *

_"Two phone calls in less than two weeks? My birthday is still four months away, child."_

Eleanor laughs nervously at his words. She was pleasantly surprised when he picked up the call immediately.

Usually, they need to try for hours whenever they want to call someone.

Luck is on her side tonight. And her father figure has unknowingly just made things easier for her.

"About your birthday... I know I always give you a gift on the right day, but this year it will be a little late... Three months late, more specifically."

She can picture his frown oh so clearly.

_"What do you mean?"_

"It's not like I think you're old... But how do you feel about... becoming a  _grandfather_?"

Crickets chirp from the jungle as she waits impatiently for his answer.

_"My heart is **not** so young and strong anymore, so if this is a joke..."_

"I'm eight weeks along."

More silence.

Then he  _laughs_ , and she can picture his bright smile as if he's right in front of her.  _" **Eight weeks!**  I  **can't** believe this- how do you feel?"_

"Please keep your voice down. I don't want anyone else to know."

_"I'm alone in your office right now. Are you sure you don't want to speak to Max too? She's talking to a few customers, I could go and get her."_

She stalls, actually considering her options for a few seconds. But then she shakes her head, even though Scott can't see her right now. "It's okay. I'll just tell her later. Don't tell anyone else. Not even Agatha, my sister or Flint.  _No one_. Please."

He sighs on the other side of the line, but she's relieved when he speaks again.  _"Of course, I will respect your wishes. It will be **hard,**  but I will do it anyway."_

Smiling to herself, she looks up at the starry sky. "Answering your question... I feel like crap. My emotions are all over the place, I'm anxious as hell, and morning sickness is more intense this time around. I'm just so tired all the time and I  _fucking hate_  it."

She hears him chuckling. It makes her smile widen.

_"It's perfectly normal. How did he react?"_

Her smile falls immediately.

"He didn't. I just can't seem to find the courage to tell him about it."

_"He won't be happy when he finds out you've been keeping this from him, child."_

Scoffing, she tries to see the outline of their ship in the dark. Unfortunately, there's no full moon tonight. "He  _won't_ be happy, period. I'm merely postponing this... It won't be pretty."

_"What's the worst that can happen?"_

Frowning, she sits down on the log near the edge of the cliff. It's the first time she really stops to think about it, a worst case scenario, and the truth is that she has absolutely no idea what could happen.

But she knows what her biggest fear is.

"If he  _leaves_... I don't know how I'm going to cope."

_"Are you serious? He **wouldn't.**  Even if he has a hard time adapting to this new reality... He would never leave you behind. Especially not at the time you need him the  **most.** Not to mention, Flint and I would hunt him down forever if he did that."_

Sighing, she rubs her forehead, feeling that a sleepless night is in the cards for her. The exhaustion is suddenly gone and she feels too nervous to fall asleep.

_"This was an unwanted pregnancy, wasn't it?_   _How are you dealing with that?"_

"I don't know." Her voice breaks, and she swallows hard. "I'm...  _numb_. I wanted to get rid of the embryo at first, and I almost did it... if it wasn't for Jack... fuck. I really  _don't want_  this. But sometimes I feel... this protective instinct, and now I don't know what the  _fuck_  is going on with me. All I know is that I need to follow through with this, but I'm just so scared. I have no idea how this is going to affect us... Charles and I. Our relationship. I just don't know how I'm supposed to feel-"

_"You're not **'supposed'**  to feel anything. It comes naturally, you can't control it. What you can do is cope with your emotions as best as you can. You're running away, Eleanor, and it's  **not** like you. How about you face everything head first instead? For as long as you run and try to hide, you  **will** be unhappy. Because you will feel weak."_

Damn it, he knows her too well, and his words hit her deeply. But she doesn't answer, and he knows better than to pressure her any further.

_"Eight weeks along. **Eight. Weeks.**  You should have seen a doctor already. You need an ultrasound.  **We need**  to know if everything is okay, if the heart is beating as it should..."_

As he goes on and on, she can't help but smile warmly,  _just listening_  to his voice. This is the longest she's been away from him in this life, and she actually misses his hug more than she misses the island.

It's a blessing, each time they're able to talk. Even if it's through a phone call. Sometimes she just can't believe she has this man in her life again, their bond stronger than ever.

That awful nightmare definitely affected her. It was too much, the idea of him trying to push her to her death, saying he was ashamed of her, just like her biological father-

_"...tough journey but I will be here all the way, and I can't express how happy I am that you decided to keep this pregnancy. I'm also glad you decided to tell me, and I can't wait to be a grandfather. Boy, girl, it **doesn't matter,**  as long as the baby is healthy. I just need you to know that you are  **loved,**  and you are not alone in this."_

A tear escapes, rolling down her left cheek. Wiping it away, Eleanor listens to his words.  _"Just come home soon, China Doll. We will be waiting for you with open arms - **both** of you. Flint will be there soon, everything will be just fine and you will be sailing back home before you know it.  **Please** , try and see a doctor on the way."_

"I promise. And I will... start working on my fears. Charles deserves to know."

How she wishes she could be seeing his smile of approval right now.

_"This is the **best** gift you could possibly give me. I am so  **proud** of you."_

Her breath catches, another tear falling. After the words he said to her in the nightmare, this is like a soothing balm to her heart.

_"And I will count the days, the **hours**  to meet my grandchild. To hold him or her in my arms, to change diapers again." _She can hear the smile in his voice, and it's uncomfortable to hear him speaking about an actual baby. But she can't bring herself to tell him to stop. _"I can't wait to see if he or she will have your eyes. Your hair. Those chubby, freckled cheeks I adored so much when you were a toddler. This child, it will be the most loved little boy or girl in this whole wide world. I can assure you of that. You have **nothing** to be afraid of."_

She wasn't expecting such a speech. Her cheeks are moist by now, and she stubbornly wipes her tears away, unable to stop herself from laughing in relief.

It feels as if a weight has just been lifted from her shoulders, and she stays on the hill for a while after finally ending the call. Waiting for her eyes to go back to normal.

A strange giddiness takes her over while she makes her way back to camp, Scott's words echoing in her mind.

_I can't wait to be a grandfather._

_The most loved little boy or girl in this whole wide world._

_Chubby, freckled cheeks._

**_I am so proud of you._ **

Suddenly, her mind is made up. When they're reunited... She will finally open her heart completely and begin a painful, but  _necessary_  transition.

She's willing now, to try and let go of her biological father for good.

This man, he's done so much for her, and he deserves to be called  _dad_.

She'll give him that. It's high time.

Most of the community is sound asleep already, and her eyes stay glued to their shelter as she crosses the camp.

Things between them have been rocky, to say the least, since the fever.

As soon as she was feeling better, Charles went right back to giving her the cold shoulder. He has hardly touched her the whole week, only asking her about her day when they were about to go to sleep.

She doesn't like his distance, and it's time to swallow her pride. To put an end to this.

He meets her eyes when she walks in through the flap, and she stops in her tracks.

His loose hair, still a little wet from the ocean. His soulful eyes. He's sitting on their bunk, holding his trusted handgun, the only one he didn't bury with the other weapons behind Jack and Anne's tent. She has no idea how he managed to keep it hidden from the Spaniards, but he  _did_.

He raises an eyebrow at her, a silent question in his eyes. She's closing the distance between them in a heartbeat, straddling his lap, her arms going around his neck as she kisses his lips.

Of course, he can't resist, he can't push her away.

_Just as she expected._

Setting the gun aside, he responds to her kiss almost immediately. His hands grab a hold of her waist, and in just a few seconds he's already pulling her thin cotton shirt over her head.

She almost panics when he touches her stomach and frowns, looking down at it.

_Did Vasyl tell him-?_

"Your stomach feels  _firmer_  than usual." He says, prodding gently, and Eleanor lets out the breath she had been holding.

"Anne is a tough personal trainer."

"She said you've been making some real progress." Meeting her eyes again, he smirks briefly. "Who knows, maybe when we're finally face to face with your ex-husband again  _you_ will be the one to kick his ass. Won't even need my help."

She chuckles, shrugging and touching her forehead to his.

"What happened? Thought you had your  _pride_  to consider?"

Her eyes fall closed, a sigh leaving her lips.

"With this approaching war... I realized that we should enjoy our time. Instead of wasting it. I guess I just  _missed you_."

His lips are on hers again and her heart skips a beat as his hands move up her sides.

It's been over 9 days since the last time they shared any intimacy, she realizes suddenly. That must explain why they've both been so damn moody lately.

And even though she's so eager for his touch, as soon as he squeezes one of her breasts she has to break their kiss, gasping sharply.

"What's wrong?"

Swallowing hard, she forces a smile.

"Just go easy. I'm... too sensitive. Must be my period, it's coming soon."

Thankfully, his lie detector doesn't seem to be on tonight.

The bastard gives her a wicked smirk, and her eyes widen a little when he tilts her chin up with the gun barrel. This takes her back in time, to a certain night in the hideout, and heat spreads through her veins. His half smirk never falters as he uses the weapon to brush her hair behind her shoulder.

Still straddling his lap, she stares into his eyes. This time, he uses the gun barrel to slide both her bra straps down her shoulders, the cold metal causing her to shiver.

She's free from the rest of her clothes in a matter of seconds, finding herself on her back soon after, the texture of their mattress rubbing against her skin as she reaches for him.

" _How_  sensitive?" He asks, hovering over her body, lips almost touching her ear. His low voice makes her chest heave.

The anchor from his necklace brushes against the little bee pendant nestled between her breasts and she smiles, fingernails trailing up his spine.

"Why don't you find out?"

It's a suggestion he's more than happy to follow, but not without teasing her first.

The gun leaves goosebumbs in its wake as he trails it slowly down her neck, collarbones, eyes always locked with hers. She squirms beneath him when he circles her left nipple with the barrel, his lips soon claiming the other one.

Just as she requested, he goes easy. But the contrast; cold metal touching one of her breasts while his warm mouth took care of the other one tears a strangled moan from her throat. He teases her like this until beads of sweat start to appear on her forehead, her breathing heavy. She seems ready to start threatening him.

Her eyes follow his hand as he sets the gun on the dirt ground, but in the darkness of their shelter, she's barely able to see as his fingers  _finally_ disappear between her thighs.

Her eyes squeeze shut, mouth parting in a silent O.

Nine days, nine days without his touch, without even  _her own_  touch. And it feels as if so much has changed in her body.

She's never been so sensitive before. Maybe back in her last pregnancy, but she remembers that intimacy during that time just used to  _hurt_  like a bitch...

Was it because her ex-husband was not a fan of foreplay? Or perhaps each pregnancy is different from the other?

No, it has everything to do with the fact that it's another man with her right now. Her gut is telling her that.

_It's Charles._

All she really knows is that  _this_  is most definitely  _not_ pain.

His lips close around her nipple again, fingers building up the rhythm he knows she loves. Nonsense tumbles from her lips, she can't bring herself to open her eyes, her nails digging into his bicep as her free hand grasped at the sheet tightly.

She can't fucking believe it, but he has her on the edge in _less than a minute_.

She falls hard, actually letting out a scream of his name that's surely more than enough to wake the neighboring tent up.

She'll just have to deal with Jack and Anne's teasing remarks in the morning, but it will be so  _damn_  worth it.

Her eyes open, her legs shaking a little as she rocks her hips against his hand slowly, drawing out her pleasure for a few moments before finally letting out a long breath.

It's as if all her worries have left her mind and flied out the tent flap.

_For tonight, at least._

Her eyes meet his in the dark, she's barely able to see his face. But the smug smirk on his lips makes her smile weakly. Her heart is still drumming in her chest, she had no idea it could be like  _this_.

"Sheer perfection." He says, voice husky with desire, and her eager hands help him get rid of the bermuda shorts.

His self control seems to be betraying him, and he's clearly so  _hungry_  for her. So she braces herself, knowing he'll forget to be gentle at this point.

And she's even more sensitive now.

But it's okay... Nothing she can't handle.

Her eyes close when he begins to push in, she expects him to just take what he needs quick, hard-

Pleasure shoots through her body as he takes her slow, even as a groan leaves his throat when they're finally joined again.

His attention remains focused on her face, and he searches for any signs of pain.

Even now, _even now_  he followed her request. He put  _her_  well being above his, even while his self-control is hanging by a thread, and this means  _so fucking much_  to her that she suddenly wants to cry.

But she won't. He can't know how intensified and messy her emotions are. And the last thing she wants is to ruin this amazing night with her stupid tears.

She can just talk about this with Jack later, even though he'll probably grimace a lot and tell her it's TMI. He'll probably get revenge sooner or later, but it's not her fault if he gained her sympathy and confidence.

Moving experimentally, still making sure he wasn't hurting her, Charles buries his face in the crook of her neck for a moment.

"So fucking  _soaked_."

His words tear a moan from throat.

She  _definitely_  feels it. It's almost enough to startle her.

Not to mention how  _swollen_  she knows she is. This is probably extra fun for him too, judging by the sounds he's making.

It wasn't like this during her last pregnancy...

Her breasts still feel tingly and tender, so every time they rub against his chest she sees stars.

It  _didn't_  feel like this with Woodes.

As her pleasure builds again, she just needs more. And she's not at all ashamed to voice her wishes.

"More, Charles,  _harder_ -"

Just as he follows her orders, she comes undone for a second time.

And a third, a  _fourth_.

_In a matter of minutes._

Her trembling hands tug at his hair, the string of his necklace, urging him down, his lips crashing against hers.

She's a quivering mess beneath him, everything feels  _hot_ , she can't think about anything other than him and  _it was never like this with Woodes_.

It's as if she never even comes back from each peak completely before falling over the edge again, and this would actually be  _scary_  if she wasn't so overwhelmed by pleasure.

Their sweat mix together, she can't tell where he begins and where she ends. Moaning, she squeezes her eyes shut, her legs wrapping around his waist as he picks up his pace again. Her hands claw at his back in response, and she couldn't care less about all the noise she's making.

" _Charles_!"

His lips find one of her nipples again and he flicks his tongue against it before sucking hard. Letting out a breathy " _fuck_ ", she tangles her fingers in his hair.

The sounds of their pleasure and their skin slapping together fill their shelter, drowning out the chirping of the crickets and the waves breaking on the shore. Their neighbors are definitely awake but now and Anne must be  _fuming_ , but neither of them gives a shit.

Her skin is on fire as his mouth leaves her breast to trail up her chest and her throat, a particularly hard thrust sending her into bliss one more time.

As she recovers from her 5th orgasm, this time finally satisfied, his pumps become faster, more sporadic. He sucks a mark into the pale skin of her neck, then pulls away to look in her eyes.

The amount of lust, devotion and desire she sees in those deep blue orbs during moments like this one... It never ceases to amaze her.

And now, it doesn't scare her _in the slightest._

His grunts of pleasure just keep on coming and when she raises her head from the pillow, capturing his earlobe between her teeth, it's his end.

With a  _loud_  groan that makes goosebumps rise all over arms, he empties himself inside her.

Their noise dies down as he collapses onto her, the weight of his body not uncomfortable for now. His forehead rests against her collarbone and she strokes his hair lovingly, both of them trying to catch their breath and calm their hearts.

A soft smile plays on her lips as she feels his thumb caressing her hip lazily, his cock still twitching inside of her.

Everything is peaceful, the sounds from the jungle and the ocean filling their shelter again. She still feels so high, so sated and good, so drunk, that her mouth parts, the words she had said to Anne days ago already on the tip of her tongue.

_I'm preg-_

" _Shit_ -" He curses suddenly, finally disconnecting their bodies and moving to sit on the edge of the bunk.

Confused, she frowns at him and props herself up on her elbows. "What is it?"

He seems confused too, when he notices just how  _calm_  she is.

"Tonight, you just felt  _so_ -" Sighing heavily, he shakes his head. "Pulling out was the  _last_  thought in my mind."

Swallowing hard, she watches him in the dark. The faint moonlight that filters in through the small cracks in their shelter is just enough to allow her to see his face.

He's staring down at her stomach. There's  _fear_  in his eyes.

Clearing her throat, she reaches out to touch his arm. "As I said earlier... my period is about to come. So it's no problem."

He meets her eyes immediately. "That means you're not fertile right now? You 100%  _sure_  of it?"

Her heart clenches painfully as she realizes she will be forced to lie to him in the following days...

"I am."

He sighs in relief.

It  _hurts_.

"The  _second_  it starts... You let me know."

To omit the pregnancy is one thing, but to actually  _lie_...

How long has it been since the last time she lied to him like this? About something so  _huge_?

She doesn't want to do this again... But it's the easiest way.

The less scary way.

Forcing a smile, she nods at him.

"Deal."

_It feels as if she just walked through that cursed gate all over again._

He finally relaxes, moving to cover her body with his again when she outstretches her arms towards him in invitation. His lips meets hers for a moment, then he kisses her forehead a couple of times tenderly, slowly.

Moving to lie down by her side, he gathers her in his arms and holds her close. She spreads her palm over his chest, feeling how rapid his heartbeat is.

Maybe from their heated encounter, maybe from that little scare, maybe from  _both_.

Staring at the anchor pendant, she shakes her head.

"Why do I feel the need to  _fight_? No matter how much time passes... No matter how much of our past is fixed. I still feel that...  _urge_... taking me over from times to times. Why do you think that is?"

"You once mentioned your parents used to fight. Because of  _you_ , sometimes. Maybe it's got something to do with that... Or maybe you're just too fucking  _stubborn_  for your own good. I also suspect you're a curse that was cast on my very soul."

Hearing the playfulness in his voice, she chuckles, snuggling closer.

"Let's try not to fight... At least until we're free from this place?"

He runs his fingers through her hair, nodding slightly. "Sounds good to me. Now let's see if you can go more than a couple of days without yelling at me. You've been moodier than usual lately."

"I'm stressed." She says, a bit too quickly.

Sighing, she trails her fingers down his chest and abdomen, until she feels that portion of rough, uneven skin.

_The scar._

She caresses it for a few long moments. Then he grabs her hand, bringing it up to his lips and dropping a kiss to her knuckles.

"It was my own choice and I would do it all over again without a second's hesitation."

"I know." Frowning, she trails her fingertips over his jawline, almost in a revering manner. "You knew you could die... Didn't you? You knew there was a high risk. And you did it anyway."

"When I was lying on the deck, bleeding... The pain was blinding. I  _felt_  the bullet as it went all the way through. I accepted my fate, at that moment. Death was coming again, but all I could think about... Was how  _grateful_  I was. Because I managed to act in time. It could be you, bleeding there, dying right before my eyes. That would have been a thousand times worse."

"Then  _why_  did you throw that fate at  _me_  instead?"

The words simply slip through her lips and she only realizes the full meaning of them when Charles' arms tighten around her.

"You're saying you'd rather die than lose me?"

She was supposed to scoff in contempt and push him away. But she doesn't.

Tears burn in her eyes.

"I don't know... I really don't know. Not anymore."

After a long silence, he kisses the top of her head. "Those days are gone for good, aren't they? The days when you cared only about yourself... When  _your_  well being was your main concern."

"Yeah." She admits easily, feeling him smile against her forehead.

This peaceful, beautiful moment... She feels they're so connected, that nothing could possibly ruin it.

Maybe...  _Maybe_  this is the right time.

_Maybe_  his reaction won't be nearly as bad as she suspects...

"Charles, I..."

Detecting the seriousness in her tone, he pulls away and meets her eyes.

"What is it?"

The fear she saw in his eyes earlier... The  _relief_  when she said she wasn't fertile...

Smiling weakly, she swallows hard.

"I love you."

For a moment, he just studies her face. As if he knows this wasn't what she was going to say at first.

But those three words, those  _rare_  words never fail to make his world stop for a while.

Chuckling, he reaches for her hand again and locks their fingers together.

"Says the woman who just had  _five_  earth-shattering orgasms in a row."

Narrowing her eyes at his audacity, she smacks his chest with her free hand.

"If  _that_  isn't enough reason to love you, I don't know what else is."

"Maybe the fact that I saved your ass more times than we can both count?"

Her eye roll is automatic.

"Oh  _how_  could I ever express my gratitude?"

Her sassiness actually makes him laugh briefly. Pulling her impossibly closer, he rests his chin on the top of her head.

"Right now... I'm the  _happiest_  man on earth."

A bright smile comes to her face, even though she's experiencing a few mild cramps at the moment.

But it's nothing too worry about, Jack did say this normally happens to pregnant women right after sex.

One of her hands is still in his. The free one grasps at the string of his necklace as she closes her eyes, now feeling ready to sleep for at least 10 hours.

"Good...  _good_."

* * *

**Los Angeles**

**03:00 AM**

_It couldn't be more perfect._

This abandoned building right in front of his target's home offers a good cover. He's spent the entirety of the last two days here, hidden, just observing...

Now he knows  _exactly_  at what time the traitor leaves for work, how many hours Sarah spends alone at the house with the brat,  _unprotected_.

He feels like a wild animal, preying on his future victims.

The time is drawing near now.

All he needs is a good opportunity. And it will come sooner than he expects, he feels it in his bones.

Smirking to himself, Ned can't stop staring at the fancy, two story house.

_He's finally free._

His thirst for vengeance and innocent blood only grows with each passing second.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear it was supposed to be a short chapter... Oh well lol.
> 
> That first part was completely pointless. But I was feeling so nostalgic that I decided to write a little something about their time in LA, the time when they had no memories of their past. I was going to keep it to myself, but why not include it in this chapter?
> 
> If you're sensitive to violence/gore, proceed with caution from now on. Because yes, there will be child abuse and some non-con ahead. Low is a fucked up psychopath, so things will get very, very dark for Sarah and Aiden.
> 
> Next chapter will be an intense rollercoaster for everyone... So be prepared.


	57. Poisonous Blood

**_Vancouver_ **

**_10 years ago_ **

_Leather is not his thing, decidedly._

_It feels as if this jacket restricts the movements of his arms._

_Uncomfortable. He should have chosen the usual; a blazer._

_Sighing heavily, the 25-year-old man picks up his pace. Why did he decide to walk anyway? He rented a car, was that for nothing?_

_It's freezing **cold.**_

_His phone rings, and he's quick to answer the call._

_"Yes, father?" He grumbles, his patience completely gone._

_At least he's close to the hotel._

_"My goddaughter was born. Woodes, you should see her. She is perfect... They named her Melissa. Elijah is ecstatic."_

_Rolling his eyes, he grips the phone tighter. He actually thought it was something important..._

_"I see... How is Olivia? Is the baby healthy?" He feigns interest, grimacing as he walks past a beggar._

_A teenager, sitting on the sidewalk. His skinny arm reach out for him as he asks for money. He stinks, his skin is filthy and he's wrapped in a worn, thin blanket that probably does nothing to protect him from the frigid night air._

_Woodes ignores him like he's a pile of garbage._

_"Thank God above, yes, she's healthy. And Olivia is doing fine. Recovering. It was a complicated delivery, but they're both well."_

_"Isn't this a happy day."_

_He couldn't care less._

_But he's got his eyes on his father's fortune, so he better stay in his good graces._

_He would hate to see all that money go only to Mason and his mother, so he plays his good son role and he plays it well._

_"I'm about to go inside the hotel. Send me pictures of the child." He says, stopping in front of the luxurious, huge double doors._

_After bidding his father farewell and congratulating him on his new goddaughter, he puts the phone back inside the breast pocket of his jacket._

_He's about to walk in through the doors, eager for the warmth of his hotel room, when something catches his eye._

_Someone._

_She's dressed in rags, playing a violin, on the other side of the street. Her chestnut hair falls in curls to her shoulders, and he can see her trembling all the way from here._

_She has a delicate, pretty face._

_After glancing at the doors again, he crosses the street._

_Her eyes are closed, she's so immersed in the song that she fails to notice his presence. Crossing his arms over his chest, he waits patiently._

_Her eyes remain closed even as the song comes to an end and she lowers the violin to her lap, so he decides to get her attention... By applauding._

_It startles her, and that pair of wide, scared, sad eyes... The exact same color as her hair..._

_They do **something**  to him._

_She's like a wounded animal; quiet, meek, and he's starting to think she's mute too._

_"Au clair de la lune." He begins, smiling and taking a step closer. She's frozen, staring at his face. "It's beautiful. You're very talented. What's your name?"_

_She lowers her eyes, and he notices when she swallows hard._

_When she speaks, he barely hears it._

_"Sarah."_

_Night is falling. The temperature dropping. He takes another step closer to her._

_"One of the most charming names in the world. It means 'pure'. Did you know that?" She shakes her head discreetly, her eyes still lowered to the sidewalk. He's not discouraged. "Why are you out here, Sarah? It's getting cold... And you're not even wearing a jacket."_

_Only then he notices the small jar near her violin case. There's some money in it, but not nearly enough to even buy a decent meal._

_"I don't have anywhere else to go. The hotels, sometimes when we're lucky they give us blankets. Or food."_

_Realization dawns on him. His heart is suddenly filled with... Something he can't quite decode._

_"You live in the streets."_

_She nods, but it's barely perceptible._

_"How long...?"_

_"Since I was a teenager. My parents didn't want me. My aunt raised me, but she..." Sarah trails off, her lower lip trembling for a moment. He's completely sure she was a victim of abuse. "She didn't like me. So I stole the violin, and I left."_

_Sighing, he looks at the hotel again._

_There's a bathtub waiting for him in his suite. He'll probably order room service, eat something expensive, then spend hours relaxing in hot water. Drinking fine wine._

_And later, he will go to sleep under those soft, thick blankets, on a comfortable bed._

_While this woman tries not to starve to death. Or fall victim of hypothermia._

_He never cared much for others. He never gave a shit about those who are less fortunate... Then why is he feeling so bad for this homeless young woman?_

_He can't bear the idea of leaving her in here... He wants her to be safe. Why?_

_All he knows, is that he always gets what he wants._

_"Get up."_

_She frowns, meeting his eyes again. He offers her a reassuring, warm smile._

_"Do as I said. You're not spending another night in the streets."_

_Confusion fills her face, but she reluctantly obeys. He watches as she carefully puts the violin back in its case, then grabs her little jar._

_"You won't need that money anymore, but... suit yourself. Come on now."_

_Just as he expected, she doesn't move._

_When he reaches for her arm, she flinches away like an abused horse. His eyes soften._

_"I won't hurt you, Sarah. Just come with me, tonight you will sleep on a proper bed, eat a proper meal... And how does a warm bath sound? A big tub with jets... Do you want that?"_

_Her eyes go wide. As if he's just offered her a ride to paradise._

_Unable to find her voice, she just nods._

_"Well, then... Come with me. I can give you this and much more... Can you trust me?"_

_She stutters a little, but then the words finally leave her mouth. "I'm dirty. And my clothes... They won't even let me in."_

_"There's nothing money cannot buy. And lucky for us, I have plenty."_

_"Why are you doing this?" She asks, utterly confused, finally crossing the street by his side._

_"I see potential in you. You have a beautiful face, if we take care of you..." He stops in front of the hotel, and she stares go at the double doors apprehensively. "Your place is not in the streets. So I'm offering you a new life. I'm here on vacation, but I will be flying back to my home in California soon. Would you like to come with me? I can arrange everything, get all the legal documents to make you a citizen... Not a faceless outcast anymore. A person. I can take you under my wing and take care of you. Would you like that?"_

_There are stars in her eyes by now, and her smile is one of the most beautiful things he's ever seen. It makes him smile too._

_"Then I ask again... Can you trust me, Sarah? **Do you**  trust me?"_

_A second goes by, then she's nodding eagerly. Her eyes fill with tears and he's taken aback when she hugs him._

_"I do... I do."_

_In four years, she would be repeating those same words at an altar, in front of hundreds of people._

_And her fate would be sealed for good._

_Forever._

**_Until death do us part._ **

* * *

**Los Angeles**

**Present days**

**07:00 PM**

Aiden is staring at him when he raises his eyes from his food.

Quickly, the boy breaks eye contact and goes back to his mashed bananas.

It amazes him, in truth, how smart this boy can be at times. But he's still angry about the slap incident a week ago, and Aiden has been acting strange too.

He's distant. His son never really liked him in the first place, there was always distrust, but now...

Now there's something that resembles  _anger_  in the baby's eyes.

Can a human being so young actually feel that? He always thought babies could only feel sadness or happiness. But whenever Aiden looks at him, it's like there are a thousand emotions in those big blue eyes identical to his own.

_It's absurd._

"Do you have to make such a mess, child?" He asks, heaving a sigh when his son throws a handful of mashed bananas to the floor, as if  _challenging_  him.

Clenching his jaw, he glares daggers at the highchair across the table, feeling the urge to get to his feet and teach this boy something about-

_"...victim was in her early twenties, shoulder-length blonde hair..."_

His blood runs cold and he jumps to his feet, rushing into the living room. His wide eyes are glued to the TV immediately.

It's as if his heart has stopped beating as he watches the news.

A woman's dead body was found in the ocean. Near Africa.

A blonde woman in her early twenties.

For a moment, he can see her again. Pale, blood smeared on her face, a slash on her stomach. He can feel her cold, lifeless body in his arms, and the tears he cried back then come to his eyes once more.

He wants to scream at the damn TV, urge those fools to speak more.

DNA. He needs a DNA test, he needs to see the face of this woman, but they refuse to show any images of the body...

Sarah is not home, and Aiden is crying from the kitchen, probably done with his food and tired of the highchair, but he doesn't care.

All that matters is this.

He calls his spies on the west coast of Africa, one by one, all of them. Despair is getting the best of him, and his hands tremble as he makes his phone calls.

_"Her name was Amahle Johnston. Committed suicide, apparently. This information is fresh out of the oven, but it's from reliable sources."_

"Are you absolutely certain?" His voice is strained, and he refuses to be hopeful just yet.

_"Positive, sir. Her body was found close to the harbor I watch. I had the chance to speak with a family member; he confirmed her name was Amahle. Spent her whole life in this town, there is no way it was your fiancée."_

He drops to the couch, intense relief making his knees weak.

Thank God... Thank  _God_.

After ending the phone call, he goes back into the kitchen. Aiden cries and tries to kick him as he holds him, going up the staircase.

"Don't wander off. I will pack everything we need, and we're leaving this place." He says, entering the nursery and placing his son on the floor.

A million thoughts are running through his head as he walks to the guest room.

* * *

**Shih Island**

**09:00 AM**

_"Let's try not to fight... At least until we're free from this place?"_

She was resolute on making that work. She was. And she  _did_.

For a week, that is.

"I don't care what you say, I don't give a  _fuck_  if you already gave those orders to Jack, you  _can't_  tell me what to do! I was  _never_  part of your stupid crew!"

His jaw clenches, eyes filled with familiar hatred as he stares at her across their shelter. They were discussing about the upcoming war, about what she was to do while they took over the estate.

It escalated into heated arguing, in a matter of seconds.

"You must be confusing me for that piece of  _shit_ you once called your husband. I will make sure you're safe. Hell, I'll force you to be safe. Even if I have to knock you unconscious and tie you to the bunk in our cabin before leaving with the others, then _so be it_."

Not averting her eyes for a second, she shoots him a look filled with warning.

" _Try me_. Try me, and I swear the noose will be a spa treatment compared to what I'm going to do to you."

Letting out a hollow, dry chuckle, he raises his chin in challenge. "Whether you like it or not, you will stay in the safety of the ship while we take care of those bastards. Not only that, I'll sail her out in the open sea before leaving to the estate. And at the first sign that something went wrong, Jack  _will_  leave this place behind, he  _will_  get you and the rest of the community to safety-"

"What about Anne? What about  _you_?"

Immediately, she regrets her words. They seem to make his anger worse, and she soon realizes why.

" _Now_  you care about my well being?"

It hurts. It hurts more than a blade slashing her open, it hurts more than cold death. And it makes her mad with rage.

"Why can't you go back to your old self for one day? Just  _one day_  - leaving me behind wouldn't seem like such a torture, if your safety was at stake. You'd grasp that opportunity with both hands and  _never_  look back."

She won't cry, even if her emotions are a mess. She won't give him this victory.

It's  _hard_.

Focusing on her anger instead, she grabs one of his boots from the ground and throws it his way with a strangled cry. He dodges easily. It pisses her off.

"You selfish piece of-"

"What's in it for you? Hmm? You have nothing to fight for this time around. This isn't your home. You gonna be that stupid again?  _Your_  island is waiting for you, and that's exactly where you're going if things go wrong. You know, the place you love above all else." He's stepping closer to her, slowly, with each word he says. She remains rooted to her spot, fists clenched at her sides and head raised high in defiance. "Back then, you choose something else other than safety, look where that got you. You gonna follow that path again? For fuck's sake, you were  _pregnant_ , Eleanor, and you still put both your lives at risk."

Fire fills her eyes.

She knows he didn't mean it. She sees it in his face; that was a low blow and he regrets it. But it's impossible to take back those words, and he has no idea how much damage he's just caused.

Normally, that would have hurt already. But considering her current state...

This is the worst thing he could have said, and for a couple of seconds, she's frozen.

But then her fist connects with his jaw hard, fast, three times in a row. He barely has time to react, his eyes filled with surprise.

Breathing heavily, she watches as he recovers for a moment.

"Don't you  _dare_  saying a word about my child.  _Ever_  again."

She's not really sure which child she's talking about.

He chuckles darkly, spitting some blood to the ground before raising his chin and shooting her a look filled with contempt.

With  _venom_.

"Which one? The one you loved so much, you had a hard time even  _acknowledging_  its existence? Wonderful mother you were."

A tear finally escapes. She takes a shuddering breath, feeling as if he just reached into her chest, tore her heart out and crushed it right in front of her.

Again, he has no idea how much damage his words have caused.

She doesn't know when was the last time her hatred for him burned this strong. Probably three centuries ago, when she saw her father's corpse.

"I hate you." Her words are quiet, and she stares into his eyes for a few seconds before pushing him away from her harshly. "I  _hate_  you!"

This time, it's a scream, loud enough for the whole camp to hear.

Just as she storms out of their shelter, Jack appears at the flap, a worried look on his face. She nearly sends him to the ground on her way out.

He grimaces when his leader spits some more blood to the ground. "Things got physical this time, I see."

With a scowl of disapproval, he shakes his head. "I heard half the fight. Chas, it was wrong to talk about the baby. You know how sensitive she is to that subject. You must have hurt her really bad."

"Well maybe that will make her see reason."

"See reason-" Realization dawns on him, and Jack closes his eyes for a moment. "It will happen in less than two weeks. You're trying to make her hate burn stronger, aren't you? To the point she will actually stay in the ship like a good girl... In the ship, where it's safe."

He doesn't say a word, but his silence is all the answer his best friend needs.

"Jesus, the things you do, the  _lengths_  you go to keep that woman safe will  _never c_ ease to bewilder me."

Charles rolls his eyes, and he looks over his shoulder.

Eleanor is making her way into the jungle by now, and he also sees Anne walking out of their tent, ready to follow her.

_Not a good idea, probably._

Heaving a sigh, he meets his leader's eyes again. "I will try and make her calm down. And once you two idiots are ready to talk without yelling hurtful words at each other again, I suggest you find another way to make her 'see reason'. You know, maybe a civilized,  _non-stupid_  way."

"Fuck you, Jack." He seethes through gritted teeth, walking out of his shelter and heading to the ocean.

Jack shakes his head, clenching his jaw as he rushed to the jungle.

"Don't, darling. She's angry, just let me deal with her. Sure she'll be more open." He says, stopping Anne in her tracks. The redhead raises an eyebrow at him.

"Jungle's got dangers, you sure-"

"I can keep her safe. And we won't be long. Just keep an eye on our stubborn fool of a brother for me, will you?"

She looks in the direction of the campgrounds for a moment before meeting his eyes again.

Wordlessly, she hands him her dagger, then turns around and walks away. Back to Shih's camp.

Following a trail of angry footprints, he soon catches up with Eleanor.

She's fuming, reaching for her face once or twice. Probably to wipe away her tears. She's also cradling her left hand to her chest. It probably hurts, from the punches she delivered to Charles' face.

But her chin is still raised high, and her stride is still worthy of a queen.

She hears his footsteps, not even needing to look over her shoulder to know it was him.

"Leave me the fuck alone, Jack."

"Darling, listen to me-"

" _Nothing_  you say will make me go back now."

She tries his patience sometimes.

He still loves her to death.

"For Christ's sake, you two fight every week, and you always make up-"

"I'm fucking sick of that asshole, I  _never_  want to see him again!" As she screams those words, she finally stops and turns around.

Sure enough, her eyes are red and filled with tears. The amount of pain in those blue-green depths... It mixes with hate, with despair, and his heart breaks for her.

She doesn't try to move away when he brings a comforting hand to her shoulder.

"We both know you don't really mean that."

Just like that, most of her anger turns to sorrow and she swallows hard, a couple of tears escaping her eyes.

"I'm just so messy... All the time... All the time. I feel like crying, then I just want to be in his arms but I also want to scream and fight, and hit him in the face, and cut off his-"

Offering her a warm smile, he pulls her into his arms. Again, she puts up no resistance, actually burying her face in the crook of his neck and returning the hug.

Her quiet sobs echo through the jungle as he strokes her hair reassuringly.

They both fail to notice something slithering among the lush vegetation, hidden from their view.

"It's the baby, darling. This is perfectly normal."

"The things he said..." She sobs harder, probably replaying all those hurtful words in her mind.

"Shhh... I know. I heard. But you know what? He was doing it on purpose. He didn't want to hurt you, hummingbird, he didn't... He's just trying to make you hate him-"

"He's succeeding."

"... because he thinks this will be enough to make you stay in the safety of the ship, when the big day comes."

She frowns, pulling away to meet his eyes, but not breaking their embrace. "What?"

"He's willing to do anything. Anything to ensure you will be safe. To make sure you will stay with me, Carly and the rest of the community. To make sure you will leave this place behind and you won't look back, if things go downhill... He just wants you to be alive and well. Even if it means you'll hate him to death."

He wipes her tears away, and she seems to be in deep thought.

He's satisfied to see some of the hate dissipating from her eyes.

"But you... Are you willing to leave Anne behind?"

He shrugs, heaving a sigh.

"No. I'm not. But she can take care of herself, and I know Charles would never let anything happen to her. Besides, I need to get Carly, you and my nephew or niece to safety. I have to, I  _want_  to. But as soon as I do that, I will come back. For Anne, and for my brother too." He hesitates for a moment, thumbs rubbing her arms affectionately. "If this scenario plays out... If we have to flee... Please promise me you will take care of Carly when I come back for Anne and Charles."

She smiles weakly, nodding at him. "You're really on big brother mode huh? What did you see in that girl?"

"She's so young. And alone. Her parents died when she was just a small child, did you know that? A friend of the family raised her, but she decided to flee... And ended up meeting Madame Shih in Phuket. She's been through so much, and she's just 17 years old."

"She's definitely coming back to Nassau with us, isn't she?"

His eyes glint, and he smiles at her. "I talked to Charles already. And to her, of course. She was hesitant at first, but she really wants a real home. A real family."

"This is beautiful and all that, but what about the legal side of this story?"

"She's almost of age. It will be okay."

She nods slowly, taking a deep, long breath. Her tears have stopped flowing. Her eyes are not stormy anymore, and he's pleased with himself.

He managed to calm the storm this woman is, once more. It's a huge achievement, even for him.

"I don't want to go back to camp yet. I really don't. At least not until my eyes go back to normal. People can't know about this breakdown... And I just need to be away from him for a while. The things he said... It was too much. I need some time."

He nods, offering her a comprehensive smile.

"I understand. But there's no way in hell I'm going to leave you and my little niece or nephew alone in this freaky jungle, so you better not try to get rid of me."

Laughing weakly, she shoves his chest half heartedly, only now stepping away from him.

"I wouldn't be able to, even if I tried-"

One second, he's smiling at her. The next, he's scowling and reaching for her arms as she lets out a cry and falls down on one knee.

Only then he sees  _it_.

His reflexes kick in and he uses Anne's knife to kill the snake just as it's about to strike again.

The damage has been done.

Her wide eyes meet his and he drops to his knees, hastily reaching for her leg.

His heart sinks. Two round marks just above her ankle. She was bitten by a venomous snake.

"Jack?..." Her voice is strained, panic filling her eyes, and he throws the dead snake over his shoulder before gathering her in his arms and rising back to his normal stature.

The creature is much heavier than he thought, and he's not certain where all this strength is coming from. All he knows is that he needs to be quick.

Eleanor is in tears again, saying her leg feels as if it's on fire, and he curses under his breath.

He can't remember when was the last time he ran so fast.

* * *

**Nassau, Bahamas**

**10:00 PM**

Staring at the suitcase near the front door, Madi shakes her head.

"I still can't believe you're actually doing this... Please promise me you will come back. Alive, preferably."

Putting his arms around her waist, the con man flashes her one of his roguish smiles.

"The three of you just can't live without me. Of course I'll be back."

His joking tone does nothing to soften the look on her face. He sighs heavily. At least she lets him kiss her lips.

"It will be okay. Nothing will happen to me, to your sister or to  _him_. You have nothing to be afraid of..." He shrugs, a grimace coming to his face. "Besides... There's still a chance Flint won't let me on that boat, when I make it to the harbor..."

She stares at him in disbelief for a couple of seconds.

"You have yet to tell him?"

"Well, I like to surprise him... I'm a good friend."

Finally the corners of her lips twitch up and she shakes her head.

But her brief amusement fades away as he gives her one last kiss, then walks out the front door, suitcase in hand.

_What if something happens?_

She barely has time to dwell on those thoughts.

Alarm rises in her chest, her mother's pained cry filling her ears.

Rushing inside her parents' room, she sees Agatha sitting on the bed, reaching for her ankle.

"Mom? What is it, are you okay?"

The older woman lifts her long skirt, taking a look at her own leg and finding nothing.

"For a moment... There was a burning sensation, and I could swear there was something piercing my skin. Something sharp, something...  _deadly_. It's gone now, but..." Meeting her daughter's worried eyes, Agatha scowls. "... I think it means something."

* * *

_Caroline and Elijah._

She can see the names on the wedding invitations already.

These two will probably get together sooner or later. It will be interesting to see that, and she wonders what will be Eleanor's reaction...

Smirking to herself, Max thinks about a brighter time. A time when those four idiots will be here again, a time when she won't spend the majority of her days worried sick about her two girls.

A time when she won't need to wait for days, even weeks, for any news from Anne and Eleanor.

A time when she will be able to witness the precious friendship that's blossoming between these two, with her own eyes.

Melissa laughs at something, bringing her back to the here and now.

Caroline brought the little girl to have dinner at the tavern tonight, and of course Elijah stops by their table now and again. She's not sure if he does it for Melissa, or for the girl's nanny. Probably for both.

When Caroline gets to her feet and heads to the bathroom, she follows, wanting to check if her lipstick was still intact. But her priorities change as soon as they walk through the door.

The blonde stops in her tracks abruptly, a choked gasp leaving her lips. She has to grasp at the sink, trying to breathe.

Max is immediately at her side, bringing a hand to her shoulder.

"Carol?"

Those blue-green eyes meet hers, and she's taken aback at the amount of panic on the other woman's face.

"I felt..." She trails off, trying to find the right words. "Pain. A lot of it. A  _lot_..."

She frowns. Her heart almost stops when Caroline speaks again.

"I think something just happened to my daughter, and it's  _bad_."

* * *

**Shih Island**

**10:00 AM**

As soon as he makes it back to camp, yelling for help, chaos breaks out.

Some people are scared of the big snake hanging from his shoulder, others are alarmed by the agonizing blonde in his arms. Some run to the safety of their tents, others come get a closer look and ask what happened.

But everyone moves out of the way as quickly as possible when a certain long haired criminal comes barreling through the crowd, his eyes wide and filled with concern.

"What the hell happened?" He demands to know. His world stops turning when he sees the dead snake.

He's quick to take Eleanor from his friend's arms, and she meets his eyes. He can see she's in severe pain, she's just trying to  _breathe_  but it's not an easy task.

Only then he understands the seriousness of the situation.

Her vision must be blurry, she doesn't seem to recognize him at first.

"She got so much worse in a matter of minutes." Jack says, following him to the tent. "I, I killed the snake, if I'm not mistaken it's a king cobra and it's..."

"It's what?" His leader practically screams the words, setting Eleanor on their bunk.

Vasyl, Madame Shih and Anne appear at the entrance to the tent, and the redhead rushes over to check up on the victim.

"It's  _deadly_." Shih answers the question for Jack, all eyes going to her. "She could be gone in half an hour. These creatures' venom is powerful enough to kill an elephant."

"Give me the boat keys. Give them to me or I  _swear_  I will kill everyone in this fucking camp, starting with  _you_." Charles threatens, stalking over to her, but she stands her ground.

"If you leave the island and they find out about it, God only knows what they will do to you-"

"So be it! Give me the keys, she needs antivenin-"

Virgil joins them, his eyes falling closed when he sees the snake and realizes what happened to his former boss. Charles seems ready to strangle the Asian to death unless she does as he's saying, and Anne is ready to help him do it.

He knows the Russian is the only one in possession of the keys, so he looks in his direction.

"Hand me the goddamned-"

Any other words he might have said die in his throat.

Vasyl is not here anymore, and Shih's eyes go wide when they hear the sound of the boat starting outside. Anne remains by the bunk, holding one of the blonde's hands in hers as everyone else runs to the beach.

"Vasyl!" Shih yells at the top of her lungs, but it's useless, and they watch as the boat leaves the bay.

Charles just tries to process this for a couple of seconds.

"He went in search of antivenin?" Jack is the one to voice the question, and Shih sighs heavily.

"He won't make it in time. 20 minutes to get to Phuket if he's fast. At least another 20 minutes to come back. And he could have to search for hours... It's impossible. She will perish. I'm sorry."

Jack meets his leader's eyes, despair written all over his face.

"You think there's still time for me to suck the venom out?" He asks, both men making their way back to the tent. They can hear her labored breathing from here and it  _kills_  them.

"All the venom is already in her bloodstream by now. And this method was proven ineffective, even if done immediately after the victim is bitten."

"Then  _what_  do we do?" He snaps, yelling loud enough to spook away all the birds nearby.

"We need to keep her from panicking at all costs. The faster her heart is beating, the quicker the venom will spread. It's best if we keep her ankle below heart level, to reduce the flow. Let's pay close attention to her, to make sure she's not going into shock." His hands are trembling as he pulls the flap open, and then there's some commotion from behind them.

They look over their shoulders just in time to see two armed men emerging from the jungle.

Charles immediately recognizes one of them as the pig they saw at the borders months ago.

_Her killer._

"It's him-"

His vision goes red, and if it wasn't for Jack grabbing a hold of his arm, he would have ran towards that sick bastard.

"Of all times?" They hear Shih muttering to herself as she leaves their side, probably forcing a polite smile to greet the Spaniards.

His leader's eyes are filled with fury, but he knows exactly how to calm him down.

"You attack him now - He shoots you down. See that rifle in his hands? He won't hesitate to use it. Eleanor would hear the shot, she would realize what happened, she would  _panic_. I know this is hard, but just stay by her side. It's the best thing you can do for her at the moment. She  _needs_  you."

He glares at the men for a couple of seconds, trying to control his temper.

A broken sigh escapes him, and then he's turning around and walking inside the tent.

"Go outside. Two of them just arrived at camp, keep an eye on the situation." He says to Anne, and she nods.

It baffles him, but when the redhead gets to her feet, Eleanor refuses to let go of her hand. She has to gently pry her fingers out of her grasp, and the amount of concern he sees in his protégée's eyes... He couldn't imagine Anne  _cared_ so much, and his love for her only grows.

Coming closer to assess the situation, Jack reaches for her face.

She's sweating profusely, the sounds she's making gives them the impression she's suffocating, and her eyes are unfocused.

"Can you hear me? Can you see my face?"

She nods, eyes searching around aimlessly. He knows exactly what she wants, and he doesn't need to say a word.

Charles is soon settled on the bunk, right beside her, reaching for her hands. She immediately looks at his face.

"You're going to be okay. Vasyl is going to the mainland for antivenin and everything will be just fine, alright? I just need you to focus on me, I need you to be strong. I need you to fight like the stubborn woman you are. Can you do that?"

She nods weakly, and he's relieved. At least she's still aware of her surroundings.

"Everything  _hurts_ -"

He pulls her closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead before making her lie down. Jack takes care of bringing her right leg to the ground.

"I need you to stay calm. Stay very still, and try not to talk."

She's gripping his hand tight, and he just wants to scream.

His whole world is crumbling all around him, and now he knows  _exactly_  what she went through back in Somalia.

This is worse than the noose. Worse than a bullet going all the way through his abdomen. Worse than  _anything_  he's ever faced in his two lifetimes.

She's dying, right before his eyes. The love of his life is  _dying_.

And there's absolutely  _nothing_  he can do.

* * *

It's just as she feared.

They're looking around the campgrounds, making sure everyone is here and scratching names off their list.

The crazy one seems to realize it first.

"Rodrigo. El Ruso."

Her heart skips a beat as Rodrigo stops in his tracks, eyes searching all around.

"Where is the Russian, Madame?"

She knows there's nothing she can do. Lying would only make things worse.

"One of the women got bit by a snake." She says, gesturing towards the dead creature, close to Charles and Eleanor's tent. "He went to the mainland for antivenin. I couldn't stop him."

Rodrigo laughs briefly, a sadistic glint in his eyes.

"A king cobra, eh? Good luck with that. I have seen strong men perish to its venom in a matter of minutes..." He trails off, thinking for a moment. "This has happened in the past, and Kournikov had no problem letting those people die. What's so different about this one?"

She shrugs, forcing a smile. "I suppose he just likes her."

Rodrigo looks at his brother, raising an eyebrow. "He's fucking her."

The crazy pig understands those words, snickering to himself. It's sickening.

"Pray tell, Madame, where is this poor girl now?"

The last thing she wants is to send those misogynistic assholes right to Eleanor's tent. But again, she has no other choice, so she nods at the shelter closest to the ocean.

They waste no time.

"Let's check what Kournikov saw in her, shall we?"

They make their way over to the tent, but Anne steps in front of the entrance with a hostile look on her face.

"Try to go in there if you got the balls." She seethes through her teeth, nose crinkled.

Even though the Spaniards are armed with rifles, while she doesn't have even a single blade on her, she's still blocking their way, fearless. And just as Rodrigo makes a move to point his weapon at her, there's a weak, strained voice from inside the tent.

"Anne. Back down."

The redhead looks over her shoulder, barely able to lock eyes with Eleanor. But they communicate without words and luckily, Anne follows her orders.

As she steps aside, reluctantly, Rodrigo looks at his brother.

"Stay here and yell if you see Kournikov coming back. Don't wander off."

Anne follows him inside the tent, posture stiff, ready to snap into action if need be.

Eleanor is trembling hard, her breathing still labored. She's much paler than usual, actually looking like a dead body already. Her eyes are filled with pain and despair, and yet, she still stares up at Rodrigo, trying to show strength.

He moves closer to the bunk, and Charles tenses up immediately.

"Show me your leg, pretty one." The Spaniard gestures at her ankle, where the two round marks can be seen. The skin around the bite is starting to change color and swell.

"If you lay a finger on her-" Charles growls out the words, and a fragile, pale hand settles over his wrist.

"Charles... Please, no. They have guns."

Chuckling at the scene, Rodrigo gets down on one knee right beside the bunk. His hands are now hovering over Eleanor's ankle.

"Better listen to her,  _Charles_." His tone is teasing, filled with contempt and scorn.

It's almost enough to make the pirate lose control. But as Eleanor grips his fingers weakly, he calms down enough to keep the beast caged.

"It's okay. Stay put,  _for me_."

She seems to be making a tremendous effort. Fighting against the drowsiness, the vertigo, just to keep him from doing something stupid.

Even though her eyes are still unfocused and she seems ready to collapse, she's still worried about his well being.

It makes him feel awful about the things he said earlier.

He can feel his heart swelling with rage as the Spaniard touches his queen's ankle, prodding her skin and making her hiss in pain. He examines her eyes then, using his index finger to tilt her chin up.

"Venom is spreading fast. What a waste, so gorgeous... But she'll be dead, really soon."

"No she  _won't_." Anne spits the words out, and Rodrigo meets her eyes.

"A king cobra's venom is enough to kill an elephant in hours... What chance has a weak, skinny woman? Antivenin isn't too easy to find. You should prepare yourselves to bury that one."

Charles is close to losing control again, jaw clenched hard while Rodrigo finally leaves their shelter and meets Shih outside.

"Better start planning a funeral, Madame. How long has it been since the last one? Esteban will love to attend." He looks at Javier for a moment, a sickening smirk coming to his face as Jack and Anne walk out of the tent too. "In fact... Let me take her corpse to the estate, once her heart stops beating. We could...  _prepare_  the body for you, save you the trouble."

His tone leaves no doubt about what he  _really_  wants to do, and Jack has to grab a hold of Anne's shoulders to keep her from lunging at the Spaniard.

"We will make ourselves at home, alright? Until Kournikov comes back. As you know, rules have been broken. Punishment is in order."

Javier snickers, following his brother to the back of the camp. His fingers dig into his wounded shoulder as he goes, and Jack grimaces at the scene.

"'Prepare the body'. Like  _fuck_." Anne seethes, and he squeezes her right shoulder in a vain attempt at calming her down. "When we go to that estate, that one's  _mine_."

"Madame. She's getting worse. Tell me, how long do you think it will take? By now the Russian must be close to Phuket already, how long it will take him to find what we need?" Jack asks, trying to stay calm. But the hint of urgency in his tone betrays him.

"Vasyl has connections all over Phuket, of course nothing is certain but I have faith he knows exactly where to find the antivenin. What really worries me... Is the  _time_. It has been almost twenty minutes now, and she's already impressing me. She was supposed to be much worse by now. The venom is affecting her central nervous system, she must be in severe pain, her vision must be blurry. She's probably experiencing vertigo, drowsiness... Soon enough, paralysis will come. And if she's not treated soon, she will suffer a cardiovascular collapse, fall into a coma... And die from respiratory failure."

Jack takes a deep breath, turning his back to them.

Probably to hide the tears in his eyes.

"Why is he even doing this?" Anne voices the question that's been in their minds since the moment Vasyl left the island, and Shih smiles weakly.

"He has his reasons. Believe me, he does."

Jack shakes his head, eyes still glued to the strait as he speaks. "Why would he risk his life, to help a woman he met so recently-"

"He's  _not_  doing it for Eleanor."

He turns around, looking at Shih with a questioning look on his face. But she doesn't elaborate on her shady statement.

Instead, she glances at the shelter and offers them an unreadable look.

"Perhaps he should know it's not just  _her_  life at stake?"

So she knows about the baby.

_Of course she does._

"I  _am_  sorry about this unfortunate turn of events. I truly am. But I advise you to prepare for the worst. Her chances are very slim."

With those words, she turns around and walks away.

Anne looks at her partner's face, a silent question in her eyes. He shakes his head.

"No. He can't know. Not now. Not  _like this_."

He's on the verge of tears. Anne squeezes his shoulder, her own eyes also filled with grief and worry.

He recovers fast. "Go to the hill, try to call Max. Ask her if there's anything we can do,  _anything at all_ , that might give Eleanor more time."

She nods, going into their own tent to retrieve her phone.

As she rushes towards the hill, he calls out.

"Remind her to keep this quiet too, if Scott hears about it, I'm sure his heart will stop."

* * *

As soon as she makes it to the top of the hill, Anne is surprised to feel her phone buzzing in her hand. One look at the caller ID, and her eyebrows furrow together.

Max is already calling.

"I was just going to call-"

_"What happened to her?"_

She scowls, glancing down at the campgrounds.

"How did you even-"

_"Caroline."_

Of course, the medium must have sensed something.

Shaking her head briefly, Anne looks at the ocean. She can see beyond the bay from up here, beyond the strait, so she squints at the horizon.

Her heart sinks. No sign of the boat.

"She got bit in the leg, by a king cobra."

There's a sharp gasp from the other side of the line, and Max's voice is strained when she speaks again.  _"These are deadly... **Please**  tell me you have access to antivenin."_

"No such luck. One of the members from the community left to Phuket. He'll search for it, but no one knows how long that'll take."

She hears Max cursing under her breath, unable to make out her words.

_"Keep her immobilized. Wrap a bandage around her leg, tight. Her **entire** leg. Do  **not**  remove it, until she has received the antivenin."_

Anne keeps nodding to herself, listening to her words and memorizing each one of them.

Something in her heart is telling her to break the news to Max right now.

The words are tumbling from her lips before she realizes it.

"It's not just her life at risk."

There's silence from the other side of the line for a few seconds.

_"Is there something I should know?"_

"She's pregnant. Nine weeks."

_"Oh dear Lord."_ She frowns as she hears Max fumbling with something. The urgency in the other woman's voice sends a shudder down her spine. _"Anne, this means her chances are even slimmer!"_

"Why?"

_"To begin with, there's a 40% of chance she will miscarry. There could be complications. And many women experience low blood pressure during pregnancy, this reduces their ability to tolerate the venom. Anne, low blood pressure... It **magnifies**  the effects of the venom in her body."_

These words prompt her to search the horizon again.

Still no signs of Vasyl, and she curses loudly, kicking the nearest tree log with all her strength.

_"Having an angry fit won't help her. Go deliver my instructions to them, every minute, every **second**  is too precious to be wasted. Go now. And I'm not certain how you feel about the baby, but don't get your hopes up. She's probably going to lose this child. That assuming she survives. I know it sounds cruel, but  **her**  life is our priority now, so forget about the embryo and do whatever it takes. Please,  **please**  call me later with news."_

"I will. Don't say a word to Scott yet, his heart wouldn't be able to take it."

_"I know. Go **now.** "_

She doesn't even bother with goodbyes.

It's a miracle she doesn't trip on her own feet, on her way down the hill.

* * *

**Nassau, Bahamas**

**11:00 PM**

He spends a long while just watching from behind a pile of crates.

Watching as the men board the yacht.

It's black in color, he can't be sure, but this boat looks as if it can go  _fast_.

It must have been expensive, and he has a feeling Flint brought it solely for this trip. He would have never guessed this man could give such importance to his newfound daddy role.

Scoffing to himself, John finally straightens up and leaves his hiding spot.

"Got room for one more crew member?"

Hearing his voice, Flint turns around. His eyes narrow, and the look on his face is a mix between annoyance and confusion.

"I know it's last minute, but-"

"Go home."

His voice is filled with warning, and any other man in this island would have obeyed immediately.

_But not him._

"I thought you wanted as many recruits as possible? It's the woman you're learning to call ' _daughter_ ' in that place, isn't it?"

For a moment, Flint seems ready to beat the shit out of him.

But then he seems to consider his options, soon realizing John would be a nice addition to his crew. And apparently, Eleanor's safety comes first.

"Stay  _out_  of my fucking way." He says, pushing the con man towards the gangway. "You'll be in charge of cleaning everything. Everyday. It should take us ten days to reach Thailand, and I don't want to see a speck of dust in the meantime. Consider this your only warning."

Ten days. He was right about the speed. It wouldn't surprise him if this yacht is actually among the fastest ones in the world.

To feel that familiar rocking motion beneath his feet is soothing, and he grins as Flint walks past him, already heading to the bridge.

"Wouldn't you prefer if I  _cooked_?"

The older man just shoots him a warning look over his shoulder. But John could swear he saw the corners of his lips twitching up for a brief second.

As the yacht leaves the harbor, he chuckles to himself, looking up at the starry sky.

He's doing the right thing... John feels it in his heart.

* * *

_**Nassau, Bahamas** _

_**Three centuries ago** _

_She wakes up with a start, still able to see that disgusting pig in her mind. Strong arms tighten around her automatically, and she raises her head from a firm, tanned chest to meet a pair of souful blue eyes._

_"What?"_

_Heart still beating wildly, she lets out a soft sigh._

_"Low."_

_Her simple explanation makes his eyes soften._

_"He's gone."_

_Eleanor nods at his words, somewhat angry with herself. She woke up scared, in his arms. Even though she managed to mask her fright quickly, he still realized she had a nightmare. He realized the effect it had on her. She doesn't like that._

_But **gratitude**  is still overwhelming her heart, her soul, so leaving his embrace is the last thought in her mind._

_He saved her life._

_She doesn't even want to think about the things that psychopath could have done to her... If it wasn't for Charles._

_And she may not be able to thank him with words, but..._

_His eyes glint as she moves to press a kiss to his lips._

_"Get some more rest. You deserve it." He says, brushing her hair behind her ear._

_His voice is lazy, sated, calm._

_And the way he's looking at her tonight... As if she is his most precious treasure..._

_She probably **is.**_

_His eyes say it for him; he would do it all over again, he would cut a thousand heads, risk his own neck a thousand times, just to keep her **safe.**_

_Her heart swells with something other than gratitude, but she **doesn't**  want to think about it._

_Resting her head on his shoulder as he watches her closely, she lets her eyes fall closed again._

_In a matter of seconds, she's falling asleep to the lullaby of the crackling fireplace and her savior's soft breathing._

* * *

**Shih Island**

**Present days**

**11:00 AM**

"Jack, her fever's at 103.2. It's bad, isn't it? Her forehead's burning."

They can see their leader and brother is barely holding it together.

His eyes are glinting with unshed tears by now, and even though he's trying to appear tough for all their sakes, fear is clear as day on his face.

He's also stressed, snapping at everyone. At his accomplices, at Virgil, at anyone who ventures too close to his and Eleanor's shelter.

At least the Spaniards are keeping their distance.

"It's her body trying to fight off the venom. This is a good thing. Could give her more time." Jack says forcing a smile and taking the thermometer from his hands.

But on the inside, he's worried about something else.

_The longer this fever lasts, the more damage can be caused to the baby..._

**_Perhaps he should know it's not just her life at stake?_ **

"Charles..." He begins as his leader is turning around to walk back inside the tent.

Charles meets his eyes with a raised eyebrow, and he battles with the decision for a moment.

If he learns about the baby now... What effect would that have on him? Would he be able to handle all those emotions?

It's probably best to wait... But she could miscarry at any moment...

_Shouldn't he know his child is probably about to die?_

"Oh  _God_." Jack mutters to himself, shaking his head and walking away to the beach.

Anne shares a quick look with their leader before following her partner, and Charles stands there watching them go for a moment.

"Vane." Virgil's voice sounds from behind him and he sees the former bodyguard holding the tent flap open. "She's getting restless again and calling for you."

Hearing those words, he shoves Virgil out of the way, barreling inside the tent. His heart breaks for the 1000th time today.

He barely recognizes her anymore.

She was doing relatively fine just a while ago, but now it seems she's getting worse with each passing minute.

_She's succumbing._

Her right leg is completely bandaged just as Max instructed, and they were forced to tie her to the bunk when she started convulsing 15 minutes ago. It  _killed_  him, but Max said she's supposed to stay as still as possible, so he had no other choice.

She also complained about abdominal pain earlier.

For the past 10 minutes she's been slipping in and out of consciousness, sometimes her eyes snap open, filled with horror, as if she's seeing something awful.

So the fact she was lucid enough to actually  _call_  for him means a lot.

He doesn't know how, but she senses his presence, her eyes searching around for him aimlessly as she mutters his name.

Rushing to the bunk, he doesn't even look at Virgil.

"Leave us."

He grabs a gentle hold of her chin, helping her find his face as the other man walks out of their shelter, leaving them alone.

"Charles-"

Her voice is a strangled thing, and she's just so weak. He's never seen her like this before, and it scares him to death.

Her face is white, her normally light pink lips starting to turn a sickening shade of dark purple.

If it wasn't for her heavy, labored breathing and the movements of her head, he would think she was gone already.

"I'm here." He says, fighting against the urge to untie her and gather her in his arms. They can't move her.

She's dying, and he can't even  _hold_  her.

So he sits on the ground right beside their bunk, close enough for him to be able to kiss her forehead.

She's covered in sweat, and her over-heated skin is another sign she's still alive.

_For now._

The mere thought of touching her and feeling nothing but coldness... Of having to  _bury_  her...

A tear rolls down his cheek, for the first time in forever.

When was the last time he cried? Back at the orphanage, in the dark of the night, when no one could see?

Or maybe after their memories came back, and she went right back to Rogers' arms? Did he cry back then? He can't remember, he used to drink most of the time, only stopping when Davina came along-

_Davina._

How is she going to react, if Eleanor dies?

Now he understands  _exactly_  what his queen meant by  _"every minute was a torture"_ , when she told him about the days he spent in a coma.

She shudders violently, and for a moment he worries she's convulsing again.

But then she recovers, her unfocused eyes filled with fear.

"I saw Low."

He frowns.

_Low?_

"It's okay..." He tries, caressing her damp hair, but she shakes her head. A couple of broken sobs leave her lips.

If he heard her saying she didn't love him anymore, it would have hurt less than those sounds.

"No it's  _not_..."

He's not sure if she can feel it, but his right hand squeezes hers.

"He's  _not_  here."

"He's about to do something, I  _feel_  it..."

She's talking. She's managing it. It's a relief, but at the same time he's even more worried.

She's seeing things, just as he was starting to suspect.

And if she believes their enemy is here, she will end up panicking.

"He's oceans away, alright? He can't hurt you. Do you understand that?"

She scowls, trembling, but then he sees her nodding her head.

After kissing her knuckles, he touches his forehead to hers.

"Don't hallucinate. Don't go to sleep. Focus on my voice and _stay with me_ , alright?"

A tear falls to his exposed knee. He's not sure if it's hers or his.

"It  _hurts_ -"

He knows she's in severe pain, the venom attacking her central nervous system, and it might sound crazy, but he swears he can feel everything she's feeling.

Everything  _hurts_ , but the pain is not enough to distract him from her.

She needs him, she  _needs_  him to be strong for the both of them, just like she did months ago in Somalia.

Now he needs to do the same for her. That thought is the only thing that keeps him from breaking, from screaming at the thought of losing her.

All he wants to do is run out of this tent, to kill someone, to  _cry_ like a lost little boy.

But she  _needs_  him, and he won't let her down.

"Tell Scott I love him. Tell him he's my  _real_  father-"

Alarm fills his eyes and he raises his head.

" _Don't_. You can tell him yourself."

"Tell Max I'm grateful. For  _everything_. And Caroline..." She breathes in sharply, the sound tearing at his soul. "...still love her all the same but I was  _scared_ -"

His tears are flowing by now, and for once in his life, he doesn't care who sees. Anyone could walk into this tent right now and see him crying like a child, but he couldn't care less.

"...tell her I'm sorry, and she's still my  _mama_..."

Her already strained voice breaks when she says that last word, and he knows why.

How he wishes he could take all those hurtful words back.

The idea of letting her die without trying to fix what he said...

"I didn't mean any of it. You would have been the best mother in the world... The  _best_."

He doesn't know why, but she starts sobbing violently. As if remembering something.

Her lost baby, perhaps?

"I know there's a lot unspoken... Things you keep buried, things you would like to tell our family, but you just can't find the strength to do it. Promise me, that when this is all over, you will tell them everything you want. You will open your heart. Life is a fragile thing. We should live every single day as if it's our last."

Her eyes widen, and he soon understands why.

She's suffocating again, and this time he performs CPR on his own. Jack had to do it earlier, and he learned fast by watching his friend work.

To his relief, she goes back to breathing on her own.

But she doesn't seem to be showing any reaction to what he said about their family, and it scares him-

"Vane."

He turns around abruptly, hope rising in his chest when he hears Shih's voice.

"Is he back?"

She offers him a soft smile, shaking her head. His world crumbles again.

Coming inside their tent, the Asian examines Eleanor, and he doesn't like the look on her face.

"She's barely conscious. This is not good. We need to keep her from going into a coma, if this happens... then she's doomed. Do you think you can get her to drink this?"

He scowls at the cup in her hands. A strong smell is coming from it, but he accepts it anyway.

"What is this?"

"A concoction of the ground root of turmeric and alcohol... It's been shown to create great resistance against the venom of the king cobra. Perhaps it could help her. And it will also help her body fight, when she receives the antivenin."

When she says the word alcohol, Eleanor shows a reaction, immediately shaking her head and mumbling incoherently. He finds it strange, but maybe she's just reacting to the pain.

He doesn't notice when she tries to cover her stomach protectively, her restraints keeping her from doing so.

He's so immersed in the task of forcing the mixture down her throat, so distracted by the possibility of a temporary cure, that he barely hears it when Madame Shih says something to his queen.

"Child, it's the  _only_  way."

Normally, he would have found this strange. But all he cares about at the moment is keeping the love of his life alive, so the words just go in through one ear and out the other.

He does notice, however, how uncharacteristic Eleanor's behavior is. She's refusing to ingest something that could help save her life. Maybe she's not conscious enough to be aware of it, maybe she's just putting up a fight because of how strong and unpleasant the smell is.

But he's stronger, and soon, he successfully forces her to swallow all of the concoction. He touches his forehead to hers and strokes both her cheeks in a soothing manner, as if to apologize for his harshness, when she gags a little.

"Shhh... It's okay. It's okay." He whispers, paying close attention to her and making sure she was breathing.

He can see she nearly throws up at least three times, probably due to the strong taste. But thankfully, she manages to keep the concoction down.

"How long has it been since Vasyl left?" Charles asks eagerly, holding his queen's head close to his neck and stroking her hair reassuringly. His tears are still flowing, and he's not at all ashamed to let Madame Shih see them.

* * *

"One hour and 20 minutes... It could happen at any time now." There's a hint of self-hatred in his tone, and Anne watches him in silence as they sit in the shadow of the palm tree. "She goes into a coma. Death by respiratory failure follow shortly. And God only knows what will happen to our brother when she's gone."

He sighs heavily, shaking his head at the ocean. They've been watching the strait for a while, eager for any signs of the boat, but there's nothing.

"I can't believe this is happening. I have grown to  _love_  her, Anne. I have grown to care about her just as much as I care for Charles. And now I'm about to lose her. All of a sudden, just like that. One second we're hugging in the jungle and the next..." He trails off, and the redhead reaches for his hand when a lone tear trails down his cheek. Truth be told, she's barely holding it together herself. "And as if losing her wouldn't be bad enough already, there's also..."

He closes his eyes, another tear escaping. "This child... It's our hope. It's our  _light_."

"You speak as if it's  _our_  kid."

Letting out a dry, humorless chuckle, he wipes his tears away. "This baby, it  _is_  ours. Theirs, of course, but... ours too... In a way."

Anne sighs at his words, bringing his hand to her lap and stroking each one of his fingers tenderly as they stare at the strait.

_Each second is a torture._

"It was her and I in that jungle."

She was already expecting this to come, sooner or later. Her eyes fall closed.

"He told us to protect her. He told us to keep her safe. I didn't see the blasted snake, I wasn't paying attention to our surroundings. I let my guard down."

Her jaw clenches as he begins a familiar speech.

"Had I done something-"

"Don't you start." He meets her eyes, frowning at her sudden, harsh voice. "Don't you  _dare_  going down that road. There was nothing you could do."

"I could have  _prevented_  it."

"I know how you feel about her. I feel the same way."

His eyebrows raise, the ghost of a smile coming to his face as she reaches to wipe away his tears herself.

"You  _do_?"

Shrugging, she averts her eyes.

"When Charles took that bullet for her, I expected her to run away from Somalia. But she stayed. She was willing to risk her life, face Teach alone and stand her ground, just to remain by his side... That made me see her with other eyes."

He smiles weakly, but it soon fades away. Fresh tears come to his eyes.

"If she dies... If our nephew or niece dies..." Lowering his eyes to the sand, he lets out a shuddering breath. " _Jesus_."

"I care about her too. A  _lot_  more than any of you can even begin to imagine, though I keep it to myself. But what's done is done, and it ain't anyone's fault."

Jack shakes his head at her words. A frown suddenly comes to her face as she thinks about something.

"Why? You're so invested. I want this kid too, but you're..."

"Because for some strange reason there's a deep,  _painful_  hole in my soul that only a  _baby_  can fill!"

She actually jumps a little, taken aback by the sudden outburst.

They stare at each other's faces for what feels like forever... And then a familiar sound fills their ears.

They look at the strait just in time to see a boat entering the bay.

Jack jumps to his feet in a heartbeat.

" _Chas_!"

Their leader is rushing out of the tent immediately, and the three of them run over to the harbor, waiting impatiently for the boat to dock.

They never thought they'd be so damn happy to see this Russian's face.

"Is she still alive?" Vasyl asks, voice filled with urgency as he jumps to the pier, not even bothering with the gangway.

" _Barely_ , did you find it?"

In answer to Charles' question, he raises a medium sized box in the air.

"She will need a lot. Luckily, I know someone and the amount they gave me should be more than enough to reverse a serious case of envenomation." His eyes soften as he takes a good look at Charles' face, father and son rushing back to camp side by side, Jack and Anne hot on their heels.

"Wipe your tears away, son. You  _won't_  be losing any loved ones today."

He couldn't help himself, the endearment simply escaped, but the younger man doesn't seem to care right now.

They share a look, stopping in front of the tent. Eleanor's labored breathing and incoherent mumbles of pain fill the air, and Vasyl scowls when he catches sight of two armed figures near Madame Shih's shelter.

" _Shit_."

* * *

Everything is blurry, but she knows he left.

All of a sudden, she couldn't feel him anymore. The warmth of his hand in hers is gone, his voice is gone, and without him, the pain is unbearable.

She knows Virgil has replaced him, but she _doesn't want_  Virgil.

She can't breathe, she can't  _think_.

Everything hurts, it feels as if her whole body is burning, more than once she actually thinks she's back in the Barlow House.

_"Ma'am... here again... be just fine..."_

She only hears a few words, her former bodyguard's voice is distant, faint.

Even though he's probably just beside her. She knows he's holding her hand.

She's gripping it tight, the pain getting so much worse in a matter of seconds.

Suddenly, there's a scream.

It's loud, spine-chilling, filled with suffering.

Only then, she recognizes it as her  _own_  voice.

And shortly after, there's some commotion, a mess of voices in the tent. She hears Charles', and her eyes try to find him. But she can't see a thing.

His hand is soon touching her forehead, he takes some of the pain away, but it's still unbearable.

_"...how many... she need?"_

She tries to ask what's going on, she's so  _scared_.

Her voice refuses to come out.

But then something approaches her face and she's able to see him.

_He's crying._

It makes her want to cry too.

More than anything, she wants to wipe away his tears...

_"...know how... inject it?"_

_Inject..._

Her brain is trying to process the bits and pieces of conversation she manages to hear, but it's no easy task.

All of a sudden, she feels something piercing her right arm. More pain soon follows, it feels as if acid is being injected into her veins, and she recognizes Charles' strong hold. It keeps her from moving her arm away.

Another scream leaves her lips, this time weaker.

It happens again and again.

The piercing sensation, the acid spreading under her skin.

_What is going on?_

For a moment she doesn't even know  _who_  she is, where she is, why she's in so much pain.

But then she's brought back to earth by a familiar, perfect voice, a reassuring whisper in her ear.

This time, she can actually hear the whole sentence.

"You've just received antivenin, Honeypot. Everything will be just fine."

The events of the day all come crashing over her.

She sobs, holding on to Charles for dear life as soon as her wrists are free from the ropes.

As he strokes her hair and whispers sweet nothings in her ear, she cries tears of joy and relief.

If the soft shaking of his shoulders is any indication, he's doing the exact same thing.

* * *

_"Maybe if you leave now... They won't be able to catch you."_

They can hear Jack's voice right outside their tent. He's talking to the Russian, and they listen in silence, still unwilling to leave each other's arms.

_"I will accept my punishment. Walking away from Shih, from **Charles**... is not an option."_

Charles frowns at that. Now that the worst is over, he's starting to think clearly again. And realizing just how strange this whole situation is.

Why did Vasyl risk his own life to save Eleanor's? Why is he still willing to stay here, waiting for Rodrigo to come back... And carry out his punishment? And why is he saying he can't walk away from a man he barely knows?

_"The second I got on that boat, I knew this was a possibility. And I did it anyway. Now I will face the consequences head first. Whatever comes... It was worth it. Eleanor is alive."_

_"I cannot possibly express my gratitude with words... We could be burying her right now. Thank you so much for saving her life."_

Listening to Jack's words, Eleanor lets out a shuddering breath.

She could be dead.

Dead, with a baby in her womb; what a  _macabre_  journey to the past...

Only now realizing just how much their current situation resembles the last part of her previous life, she shivers.

_She didn't die._

It feels as if she's just surpassed some sort of invisible barrier.

It's been two hours since she received the antivenin, and she's doing much better already. But some of the symptoms still linger. She feels lightheaded, nauseous, extremely tired, and some of the pain has yet to go away.

But at least her vision is back to normal, and she's breathing well again.

She asked about the Spaniards who came here, wanting to know more... but Charles refused to say too much, for some reason.

They're gone now, but one of them told Madame Shih he would be back soon. He said Vasyl needed a punishment.

How she wishes she could do something to avoid that... But she's just so damn weak at the moment; even walking seems like an impossible task right now.

She pulls away to meet his eyes, reaching for his left cheek.

She has seen tears in his eyes in the past, but  _this_...

They're flowing nonstop, as if a dam has been broken.

She knows he stayed strong during the entire storm, keeping his emotions under control for her sake. But now that the worst is over, now that she's recovering, he couldn't hold back anymore.

She just hopes he won't think she finds him weak for this.

A soft smile plays on her lips as she wipes away his tears, his eyes glued to hers.

She's seeing the  _full_  extent of his love in those blue depths, it's almost enough to scare her.

But there's nowhere else she'd rather be.

"How do you feel?"

It's strange to hear his voice like this; broken, quiet, shaky.

"Like crap. But getting better. My leg hurts like a bitch."

He moves to get a look at her ankle. When they removed the bandages, they noticed that the skin around the bite had turned dark purple. At first they feared necrosis, but it's starting to go back to normal already.

The swelling will take longer to subside, she's afraid.

His arms tighten around her and she meets his eyes again.

He's staring at her as if she's a beautiful, precious mythological creature, straight out of his favorite childhood fairy tale.

Even though she doubts he had one, but still.

"You're  _alive_."

It's a broken whisper, and she kisses his lips before letting him hold her impossibly closer, his face buried in her hair.

"I am. And I'm not going anywhere. I'm alive." She reassures him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

_Can the same be said about our baby?_

The thought comes suddenly, and she's quick to push it to the back of her mind.

There's noise from outside, and Shih is soon pulling the tent flap aside.

There's an unreadable look on her face, her jaw clenched.

"Rodrigo is back. He demands that everyone watches the punishment."

She doesn't have to look at Charles face to know he's glaring daggers at the Asian.

"This is the last thing she needs-"

"The last thing she needs is a filthy  _pig_  coming in here and dragging her out to the beach by force. Is that what you want?"

After pressing a reassuring kiss to his birthmark, Eleanor meets his eyes.

"It's okay. Can you just carry me?"

The anger in his eyes dies down and he nods at her.

"What will his punishment be?" He asks, getting to his feet and lifting his queen in his arms, easily but carefully.

When he turns around to face the Asian, she swallows hard and walks away after muttering a " _you shall see._ "

There's an unpleasant feeling in his gut already.

* * *

_***Mild violence and graphic content ahead***_

.

As soon as they make it to the beach, Rodrigo scoffs at the couple. He doesn't bother hiding his displeasure by the fact that she survived.

_Then they see it._

Her blood runs cold and she looks at Charles' face as he stops in his tracks, suddenly frozen.

Sure enough, there's a haunted look in his eyes.

He swallows hard, recovering fast and raising his chin as he walked over to his accomplices' side. Jack leans in to press a kiss to the top of her head.

"Each and every one of you are well aware of the rules we have set, years ago. Today, the most important one has been broken." Rodrigo's hateful voice fills their ears, his accent making Eleanor's stomach churn. The crowd is forming a circle around him, Vasyl is on his knees by his side, shirtless, eyes lowered to the sand. A rifle is still hanging from the Spaniard's shoulder. And in his hands, a cat-o'-nine-tails.

The last time she saw one of those was back in the 18th century. Her father had one, for the slaves.

Her heart fills with hatred. There's nothing they can do.

A first snap cuts through the silence, and tears come to her eyes when she feels Charles flinch.

Eleanor wonders if he even remembered how it sounded like.

_Probably._

She has a feeling  _he_  will be the one tortured by nightmares tonight.

Her hand settles over his heart as they watch the cruel show. Rodrigo is relentless, raising the baton in the air and bringing it down again violently, the knotted ends dancing in the air before striking against Vasyl's flesh.

It happens once, twice, _five times_ , and the Russian doesn't fall.

Instead, he opens his eyes, searching the crowd until he finds them.

Eleanor expected to see anything on his face, anything but _love_. She can't believe it when he offers them a weak smile. Letting them know he doesn't regret what he did, even as the lash strikes for the 8th time and he finally cries out.

Carly turns around, covering her face with her hands and letting Jack hug her. His hand cradles the back of her head, caressing her dark hair, and even Anne squeezes the teen's shoulder reassuringly.

When blood starts to stain the white sand, Eleanor hides her face in Charles' neck and his arms tighten around her protectively.

Her tears flow, and she prays it will be over soon. Each snap, each muffled cry makes her skin crawl.

After what feels like an eternity, she hears a body slumping down on the sand.

There's silence for a moment.

" _This_  is what happens to those who disobey Esteban's rules. Keep this in mind, people."

A low growl leaves Charles' lips as Rodrigo walks past them, and they watch him disappear into the jungle.

When her eyes return to Vasyl, Madame Shih is rushing over to him.

She can  _smell_  the blood, and Jack takes Carly away from the scene while Anne helps bring the Russian to his feet.

The crowd dissipates, horrified, and Vasyl is barely conscious as the two women practically drag him to Shih's tent.

She suddenly wants to vomit.

His back is torn to shreds, bits of skin hanging in the air, blood oozing down, staining his pants.

She had no idea it could be  _this_  bad.

Did Charles' back look like this too, in the past?

She slowly meets his eyes, trembling all over.

His tears are gone, but the look on his face is a mix between grief, horror, anger and hatred.

And finally,  _sympathy_.

Her arms go around his neck and she tries to let all her love show as he carries her back to their shelter.

She knows he needs this right now; her love, her  _support_ , and she's more than happy to give it to him.

* * *

_***Trigger warning: Domestic Violence***_

.

**Los Angeles**

**11:00 PM**

Traffic was hellish, and she got home so late... Hopefully Woodes won't be too angry.

The house is silent.  _Too_  silent.

Frowning, she makes her way upstairs. His voice is coming from the guest room. He's on the phone.

Opening the door slowly, Sarah takes a peek inside.

He's arguing with Mason, and she flinches when he ends the call, punching his suitcase-

_Suitcase?_

Finally stepping into the room, she gets his attention.

"What in the world?"

The look on his face when he meets her eyes sends a shudder down her spine.

His suitcase is filled with his clothes, as well as delicate sundresses.

"I can't do this anymore. She's still out there, she needs me and I abandoned her again. When I'm the  _only one_  who can save her!"

Her lower lip trembles, her chest tightening painfully.

"You... said you were going to stay with our son."

"My son. He's  _mine_. And I am taking him with me."

They don't see Aiden trying to keep his balance at the doorway, a confused frown on his face as he sucked his thumb. He's been learning to stand up on his own.

A violent wave of hatred crashes over her. He's just threatened to take her baby away; the baby  _she_  carried for all those months, the baby  _she_ gave birth to, and Sarah suddenly feels like a completely different person.

Unfamiliar strength takes her over, all her fear seeping away. Fire fills her eyes as she raises her chin.

"Finally, I see you for just what you are." Storming over to him, Sarah screams the words she never thought she'd be brave enough to even utter. "You're such a sick, selfish,  _sadistic_  asshole!"

The slap resounds through the entire house. The force of it sends her to the floor immediately, her face burning. And just as she's trying to recover, pain explodes in her stomach and she curls herself into a ball, realizing he was kicking her with all his strength.

The pain is blinding, she can't even scream.

And then he's rushing out of the room, nearly tripping on his son as Aiden crawled back to the safety of the nursery desperately.

Sarah lies there for a few seconds, but once she hears the front door slamming shut downstairs, her mind is made up.

She knows there's no time to lose.

Breathing through the pain, she grasps at the bed for support, hissing as she struggled to get to her feet.

With a strength she didn't know she possessed, she pushes the pain to the back of her mind, rushing to her own room and packing a quick bag. Aiden is sitting near his crib when she makes it to the nursery, his wide eyes filled with fear as he watches her every move.

Hastily, she grabs all the essentials, throwing everything inside his baby bag.

Woodes probably left to calm his temper and avoid doing something stupid, but she knows he will be back soon.

_It doesn't matter._

They will be gone by then.

Wiping away the only tear rolling down her cheek, she scoops Aiden up in her arms, their bags hanging from her shoulders.

"Come on baby. We're going on a trip, no one's taking you away from mommy, alright?"

As if understanding what was going on, Aiden coos and hugs her neck. Just as she's about to head out the front door, her eyes settle on the wedding portrait.

The first thing she saw every time she arrived home, the portrait she tried to get rid of  _so many times_  before.

Hatred burns in her heart and she reaches for it, years of pent down resentment finally catching up to her.

A strangled cry leaves her lips as she throws it as far as she possibly can.

The sound of glass shattering fills her ears, making her laugh.

It feels like breaking free from heavy chains, and this time, she is  _not_  afraid.

She's quick to strap Aiden to his car seat and set their bags just beside it.

As she makes her way around the car, her mind is swimming with possibilities.

She needs to get away from this house, then she will call Miss Barlow for help, it's not like there's anyone else she can turn to. And the lawyer said she would be her friend, she would help... Sarah believes she was saying the truth.

But whatever happens, she never wants to see her ex-husband again.

She never wants him to see  _Aiden_  again.

Her heart is drumming in her chest as she gets on the driver's seat, starting the car.

So immersed in her newfound freedom, she fails to notice a shadow approaching.

_And then it's too late._

A short scream leaves her lips when a familiar someone gets on the passenger seat unceremoniously. Moonlight catches on metal, making it glint, and her eyes go wide as she notices the gun.

He has it pointed to her head in a heartbeat.

"Going somewhere? That was easier than I thought."

The fake eye sends shivers down her spine.

"Now drive, sweetheart."

She's frozen in raw fear.

He raises an eyebrow, and her heart leaps to her throat when he points the gun at Aiden instead.

His sarcastic little smirk is gone, seriousness filling his face

" _Drive_."

He's not bluffing.

He  _will_  shoot her baby, if she doesn't do exactly as he says.

Trying to control her trembling hands, she starts the car.

"Port." It's all he says about their destination.

"P-please just lower the gun-"

"If you say another word, I'll blow his brains out."

Ned meets Aiden's wide eyes, whispering a " _bang_ " and moving his hand in slow motion as if he had actually fired the shot.

Sarah had never felt so terrified before.

Chuckling, their captor watches as the baby starts to cry.

"We're going to Africa, kid."

* * *

**Shih Island**

**11:00 PM**

Leaving her side was painful.

But once she was asleep, he just couldn't banish the thoughts from his mind.

Thoughts about what happened earlier. About what Vasyl did for them today.

He just can't act as if nothing happened.

After asking Jack to keep an eye on Eleanor for him, he quietly makes his way through the path, all the way to the back of the campgrounds.

All the way to Madame Shih's tent.

He comes in unannounced, despite knowing how much the Asian hates that.

Vasyl is sitting on the low double bed, and he notices that Shih has given him stitches. His back is not covered in blood anymore, but one look at the wounds lets him know the Russian will be left with nasty scars for the rest of his life.

For a moment, he can feel the pain on his own back again, going three centuries back in time.

"How is she?"

He barely recognizes his voice.

Usually, it's powerful and deep. Now it's nothing but a hoarse, broken thing. And despite all the pain he's probably going through right now, he's still concerned about Eleanor's well being.

A half smile comes to Charles' face as he walks closer to the bed.

"Not so pale anymore. Her fever is starting to go down too, and she's stopped shaking. She's asleep now."

"She will probably need another dose tomorrow." He says, and Shih sighs heavily.

"The girl will survive. Thanks to you, dear. What you did today was extremely stupid, don't think I'm not angry about your actions... But you were so brave. And for that, I am proud."

Charles watches as she strokes Vasyl's cheek, wondering, once again, if there's something between the two of them.

But it's none of his business, so he averts his eyes.

"Can you leave us alone for a moment?"

The Asian looks from Vasyl to him, then she smiles as if she knows something he doesn't. Silence reigns while she does as he requested, leaving her tent.

"Thank you."

The words just tumble from his lips immediately.

Charles never thought it would be so easy to say that. He actually wants to say it a thousand times, to  _scream_  it at the top of his lungs for the  _whole word_  to hear.

"Thank you so  _fucking_ much."

Those hauntingly familiar blue eyes glint, and the Russian swallows hard, as if he's drowning in a thousand emotions.

"It's alright."

"I mean it. That woman... She's my world. Part of my heart, my  _soul_ , and if I lost her... I don't know what would become of me. You saved her life today... But you saved  _mine_  as well."

He can't believe it when a tear rolls down the older man's face. It's almost as if his biggest dream is coming true.

They watch each other in silence for a long while. Vasyl seems to be analyzing every inch of his face, burning each little detail into his brain. As if his features are the most precious treasure in this world.

The look in the Russian's tired eyes...

It makes him think of a father seeing his newborn son for the first time.

Surprisingly, it doesn't make him uncomfortable at all.

"My back was once torn to shreds too." He speaks without really thinking, and Vasyl frowns at that.

"I don't recall seeing any scars."

He's quick to fix the situation. "I don't have them anymore. Modern methods..."

"They work wonders, right? Like being born again."

_If only he knew..._

Charles lowers his eyes, trying to find the words to say. All he wants is to let his gratitude show, to let it all out, but he doesn't know how to begin.

"I have no idea how..." He shakes his head, shoulders tense. " _Nothing_  I do will be enough to express just how grateful I am. We do have a lot of money saved. Money my accomplices and I hunted over the years. And Eleanor mentioned she wants to show her gratitude too. She has a small fortune from the time she used to manage her family's trading company, and a growing business back home that also gives her a lot of profit. We're willing to make you rich."

For a couple of minutes that feel more like a thousand years, they don't say a word.

Then Vasyl breaks the silence, and what he says is the last thing Charles was expecting to hear.

"How about a  _hug_  instead?"

Baffled, he just stares at the older man at first.

_A hug._

It's rare for him to hug even Jack, and Jack is... Well,  _Jack_.

He's mostly used to hugging Eleanor and Davina.

But  _how_  can he deny this man anything, after what he did?

Awkwardly, he approaches the bed, and Vasyl struggles to get to his feet, a grimace coming to his face as his back protests.

The Russian's eyes glint with unshed tears as Charles hesitantly follows his request, mindful of his wounds.

In just a couple of seconds, Vasyl's arms tighten around him, and the older man lets out a shuddering breath.

"You're the same age as my lost son." He explains quietly, and Charles swallows hard.

Letting his eyes fall closed, the criminal finally relaxes.

He can't understand why, but this feels like coming home.

Shih spies on the scene through the flap, a warm smile on her face. But neither of the men notices it, too lost in their emotional moment for now.

* * *

She's alone. He's not here.

As soon as her eyes snap open and she moves to sit up on the bunk, Charles' name on her lips, Jack is reaching for her hands.

"Shhh, love. It's okay. He went to see Vasyl. Asked me to keep an eye on you. He'll be back soon."

Eleanor takes a deep breath, nodding and hugging her knees to her chest with one arm.

She still feels weak, there's still some pain, especially on her leg, but Max assured them it was normal. Jack smiles at her, but the haunted look on his face... She knows he has something important to say.

"Just spill it. Whatever it is, I can take it."

He sighs heavily, knowing it was useless to try and argue with her.

"Max said there's 40% chance you will miscarry. And even if you don't... There's no way for us to tell what effect all that venom had on the embryo. Maybe the placenta protected it, maybe not... We can't know for now."

She lowers her eyes, then nods weakly.

"I know. It was probably a lot of trauma... For a human being so small."

_A human being._

Is she finally recognizing her little embryo as her child?

Jack clears his throat, knowing that was probably just a little slip-up.

"If you feel something during the night, if you suspect you're losing... you know...  _please_  feel free to come to our tent. We'll help you through it, I'll leave you with Anne if you only feel comfortable with another woman. We'll also keep it a secret from Charles, if that's what you want. It's your call. Whatever happens, you give the orders and we'll follow them."

She nods, forcing a smile.

They both know it's far from genuine.

One of her hands is still in his, and he suddenly squeezes it. "God, darling. I thought we were going to lose you. I had no idea you were  _that_  important to me."

This time, she smiles for real.

"Even  _Anne_..." He chuckles, his eyes glinting in the dark. "She said she cares about you far more than we can even begin to imagine... But she keeps it to herself. Can you  _believe_  it?"

She lets out a brief laugh, her heart fluttering. So her suspicions were correct.

He kisses her forehead, thumb stroking her palm. His eyes are still filled with relief.

"I love you, hummingbird."

It catches her off guard, and all she manages is a nod of her head.

It's the closest she will get to saying " _I love you too_ ", and thankfully, he understands.

"I know. I know you do. Don't worry." Jack reassures her, then he gets to his feet.

She watches as he walks to the flap, pulling it aside to take a look at the camp.

"He's coming back. I'll meet him outside, okay?"

Just as he's about to leave, she calls out for him. He stops in his tracks, looking at her over his shoulder.

"I hope I won't have to... Go to your tent, I mean. I hope... that the  _baby_  is okay."

**_Baby._ **

_Her little baby._

Tears burn in his eyes. He smiles lovingly.

"I hope so too, darling. I really do. What matters the most is that you're still among us, okay?"

She nods, and he winks at her before letting the flap fall closed behind him.

It's in this moment he  _truly_  realizes it. His family is his world.

And he will do  _anything_  to keep them safe.


	58. Son

**Shih Island**

**10:00 PM**

His muscles are like solid rock under her fingertips, his warmth taking her over. Waves break on the beach right outside their tent, the familiar sounds mixing with foreign ones, from jungle critters she can't identify.

Every time she meets his eyes, her heart skips a beat.

He's letting all his love show, walls completely down in this quiet moment they're sharing on their bunk. The sincere, revering look on his face makes her smile like an idiot.

He's lying on his back, head propped up by the pillow they brought from the ship. She's sitting with her legs on either sides of his hips, one of his knees support her back as she traces invisible patterns on his chest and abdomen.

The sarong she wore during the entire day to hide the scars on her thighs is now forgotten on the dirt ground, she's wearing nothing but a blue bikini set, and Charles' fingers leave goose bumps in their wake while he traces each one of her scars. He's memorized all of them, now able to find them even in the dark, even without looking. It means the world to her.

It means he loves her new thighs just as much as he loved the old, unharmed ones.

They've both changed so much, physically. The ghastly scars on his back are gone, his chest lacks that bumpy mark. On the other hand, his neck is now marred with a constant reminder of what she did, and guilt tears at her heart every single time she looks at it.

He also wears two new scars now, the proof of his love for her.

She has her own battle scars. The reminder of her death. The clear evidence of what years of psychological abuse, guilt and loneliness did to her. The signs are scattered all over her thighs.

So much has changed.

And they found each other.

They overcame what they did. They overcame everything life's thrown at them so far.

_They've come a long way._

His fingers trail up her side, making her close her eyes and sigh softly in satisfaction. The comfortable moment is threatened when one of his hands settle over her lower abdomen.

"Your stomach is seriously getting firmer and firmer every day."

She forces a smile and shrugs, gently removing his hand from  _that_  spot and locking their fingers together to mask her discomfort.

"Well, it's a nice result from the changes in my diet and all the physical effort I've been doing." She lies easily, and the corners of his lips twitch up.

Soon, however, a shadow comes to his eyes.

"Any symptoms today?"

At first, she nearly panics. But then she realizes what he's talking about.

It's been almost a week. Almost a week since the day she nearly met cold death again. And even though she's been recovering well, he's still out of his mind with worry.

"Nothing. I told you. I'm  _fine_. Even my leg has gone back to normal already."

She still has two round marks just above her ankle, but her skin is back to its original color and there's no swelling anymore.

He reaches for her hair, running his fingers through the soft strands slowly.

"Your hair is different. It looks so glossy, shiny... More voluminous." His fingers trail over her jawline, then he cups her chin. "You've been looking so much more  _beautiful_  lately."

Knowing it was probably another effect from the pregnancy, she smiles sarcastically, wanting to take the focus away from her appearance.

"I think you're just a love-struck fool."

He flashes her that wicked half smirk of his, just before she claims his lips with hers.

He's successfully distracted, and they don't get any sleep for the next two hours.

* * *

**Indian Ocean**

**01:00 AM**

She jumps when the metal door is unlocked and thrown open, the baby in her arms crying even harder when their captor's harsh voice fills their ears.

"If you don't get that kid to shut up within the next minute, I'll slash him open and send his body to Rogers."

Swallowing hard, Sarah tries to ignore her own fear.

"Please, he's just scared... Keep your voice down, and he'll stop, I promise."

He shoots her a look filled with warning, locking the door behind him and putting the key back inside his pocket.

"Try telling me what to do one more time... We'll see how good you are at holding your boy if you only have one hand."

She bites her tongue, easily slipping back into submissive mode and holding Aiden tighter. Trying to calm him down with gentle whispers and caresses, Sarah thinks about their situation for the 1000th time.

They're traveling on a cargo ship, apparently their captor is friends with the captain, and Ned has been keeping them in this small, empty storage room.

Her new bed consists of a few rags that don't do much to protect her from the cold floor. At least she managed to bring Aiden's car seat with her, so he has something soft to sleep on.

Their captor says they're halfway to their destination already, and after Aiden cries himself to sleep she finally musters up the courage.

"Why are we going to Africa?" She asks carefully, keeping her voice quiet while placing her son on the car seat.

To her surprise, he doesn't ignore her.

The fake eye makes her stomach churn as he sits on his cot, cleaning his gun.

"Do you have an idea how poor the security system is at the Guthrie mansion?"

She shakes her head, thinking about returning to her "bed", but deciding to just sit on the floor in front of her sleeping son.

"It's pitiful." He continues, stopping for a moment to laugh to himself. "Just like what I found in that big office, on the third floor. He was so  _drunk_ , he confused me for one of his brothers when I walked in. By the time he realized the danger, he was gagged already. At first, he fought. But when I explained what I wanted, once I promised him his life would be spared if he helped me, it was like we were old pals. Even offered me his expensive whiskey."

"And what is it you wanted?"

She stiffens when he points the gun at her, but then he chuckles and sets it aside.

"Why, his daughter's location, of course."

She scowls. For some reason, the thought of this man putting his hands on Eleanor disturbs her deeply.

She just doesn't want another woman to suffer.

"It turns out, she called him months ago. He was so intrigued, that he traced the phone call. It was hard work but eventually, he found out she called him from Somalia. And that's not all. He also mentioned the orders she gave him. Apparently, she needed the family's chateau for something, so she told him not to go there until further notice. So now, sweetheart, I have very solid chances of finding her." He smirks to himself, trying to take a peek at Aiden and making her blood turn to ice. "First Africa, then the chateau in the Bavarian Alps. Soon enough, she will be with us."

Moving so she was shielding Aiden from his eyes completely, Sarah battles to find her voice again.

"What do you want from us? Why are you keeping us alive?"

"I know you don't have too much value to your ex-husband, but Eleanor..." The humor is gone from his voice now. His good eye darkens. "When I find her, I will snatch her away from Charles, right under his nose. And then... How do you think Rogers will react to finding his precious little Eleanor, dead,  _violated_... With Aiden's lifeless body in her arms?"

A choked gasp leaves her lips, and she shakes her head violently as fear fills her eyes.

"You? I'll probably just toss your body in the middle of a desert somewhere, vultures need to feed too. But as for that kid and Miss Guthrie..." He gets to his feet, gun in hand. For a moment, it looks like he's daydreaming about something. "It will be the  _highlight_  of my existence."

A lone tear trails down her cheek, and in this moment, Sarah hates herself with all her strength.

"I can't believe I was willing to put that poor woman's life in your hands..."

He grins, and her eyes follow him as he walks to the door. "Changed your mind about her, did you? What happened to all that hatred you felt for her?"

"It's gone. It's all gone." It's a meek whisper. She's not sure if he hears it or not. She's mostly admitting this to herself.

"Treacherous creature, that one. I tell you." Shaking his head, he unlocks the door, pausing to get a look at her and Aiden.

"I'll go have a drink. Remember to wait for me before you feed him. No matter how much he cries. You know what happened the last time you disobeyed that order, if it happens again, the kid will be punished in your place. Keep that in mind."

When he walks out the door, locking it behind him, her tears flow.

Anger mixes with sorrow and despair as she touches the healing cut on her collarbones.

One of the worst things about this situation, is that she can't even find some solace in the most beautiful moments she shares with her son.

Breastfeeding her little boy was always her source of comfort, her safe haven, the rest of the world and all her problems used to fade away as she stared into those big blue eyes. She could swear she sees gratitude and the deepest, purest love.

As if Aiden knows she's giving him life, and he's so thankful for that.

It can be painful sometimes. But it's the most rewarding, beautiful experience she ever had.

_Now, however..._

Right from the first night she realized it, their captor's sick interest in the act.

What is an innocent, beautiful and immaculate bonding moment between mother and child to her... In his eyes, it's nothing more than a show to satisfy his  _appetite_.

It makes her want to vomit, the way he touches himself while watching her breastfeed. She tries so hard to block out his noises, to focus only on her son's face, but it's impossible.

It feels like such an invasion. And yet, she just prays it will  _suffice_.

She prays he won't try anything with her, to actually violate her body. This is humiliating and painful enough already.

If Aiden wakes up, hungry, crying, she will have to wait. Wait for that sick monster to come back, so she can finally feed her little boy.

It's happened before, and it kills her. She had never denied him the breast before, and Aiden probably wonders why she's doing it now.

But if she goes against their captor's orders, he will cut a gash across her baby's collarbones.

There's  _nothing_  she can do.

Hugging her knees to her chest and sobbing as quietly as possible, to avoid waking Aiden up, Sarah prays.

She prays her ex-husband will find them before it's too late. She prays he will come save her and their son.

She also prays she will come up with a genius plan, and find a way to save both their lives  _herself_. To be her own hero.

_As unlikely as that seems._

* * *

**Shih Island**

**01:00 PM**

Charles comes to a stop in front of the large tree, a smile tugging at his lips as he looks up at the peculiar structure supported by those thick branches. It reminds him of his tree house back at the orphanage. He conquered it at a young age, and not even the older kids dared to challenge him.

It became his little spot, the place he always ran to, whenever he wanted some solitude. Some silence and time for himself.

He can understand Vasyl.

The Russian left Shih's camp a couple of days ago, saying he wanted to spend some time away from the community.

Back in their first weeks here, Charles and Anne stumbled upon this strange looking shelter. Up on a tree, it consisted of softwood, vine, rope and a few other materials he couldn't identify.

Now he's staring up at it again, reaching for the makeshift ladder.

It might be a wild guess, but he has a feeling this is exactly where Vasyl fled to.

He's quick to climb up to the tree house and his hand goes to the knife strapped to his belt just in case, as he makes his way through what could be called the front door.

At first, there's nothing but silence, and just as he's starting to think he was wrong...

"Charles?"

He turns around, watching as the well-built Russian appeared from the shadows. Some pain still lingers in his familiar eyes, and Charles can't find his voice.

He's not sure why he came here, and he doesn't know how to do this.

Raising his satchel, he clears his throat.

"Brought fish. From the camp. And fruit. Must be tough to harvest any food, considering the state you're in."

Vasyl's eyes glint, a huge smile coming to his face as he takes a couple of steps closer. His voice is somewhat strained when he speaks, as if he's actually fighting back tears.

"Thank you. I admit that food was the last thought in my mind when I left the campgrounds. So I appreciate your gesture."

He nods curtly, setting the satchel on the irregular wood planks that serve as the floor of the tree house and turning around to leave.

"If you have some free time... Perhaps you could stay for a while? I could use some news from the campgrounds."

His brain immediately tells him to refuse. But he ignores it, stopping in his tracks and looking at Vasyl over his shoulder.

"After what you did... I don't think there's  _anything_  in this world I could possibly refuse you."

The Russian chuckles weakly, and they're soon settled on the benches made from tree logs. Monkeys can be heard outside, one of them actually taking a peek inside the tree house for a moment, then running away when the men look over at it.

"What's been going on at the camp?"

"Same old. Shih's finally starting to disclosure some of her plans. She said that no one's ever checking the north borders at night. The terrain is too uneven. So that's how we'll enter their territory without being shot in the process. She showed us a map. There's a path we can follow to the estate, it's like a cave of sorts. According to her, the Spaniards have no clue about its existence. It's a short walk to the mansion, once we leave the tunnels. And she told us they never keep sentinels close to their home. Only close to the borders. She's made several drawings of the mansion, all very detailed. We'll go in through the back door. The door to the kitchen. It's always empty at night, they sleep on the third floor, so they won't hear it when we break in."

With a frown on his face, Vasyl rubs his forehead. "And then? You plan on killing them in their sleep?"

"Madame Shih told us about the family's dynamic. They've all been brainwashed by the current leader, Esteban. She said they're all willing to die for that man. So if we have control over Esteban..."

"...you have control over all of them."

He nods when the Russian finishes the sentence for him, and they stare at each other's faces for a moment.

"So the plan is to get Esteban to surrender."

"We know where his room is located. She said no one watches the hallways. Everyone sleeps during the night, they all wake up with the sun to tend to the plantations. The only ones who stay awake are the ones designed to watch the borders for the night. At first, she was planning something simple... A gun to his head, a knife to his throat. But after what happened to Eleanor last week... It gave Shih some  _inspiration_."

A questioning look comes to Vasyl's face, and Charles soon elaborates.

"When she came back from her morning walk on the jungle today... She had a large box with her. She captured a king cobra. I don't know how, but she did. There's also leftover antivenin in her tent."

A smile slowly plays on Vasyl's lips, with each word he says. "I knew it. I knew there was something in her eyes, that calculating look... As she tended to my wounds. I could hear the engines on her brain moving."

"If Esteban is bitten, it should be easy to subdue him. We gag him, so he'll be unable to give any orders. If his life is in our hands, those bastards will do whatever we say. We get them to surrender. Piece of cake."

"And after that... Is she planning to send them back to Phuket? What keeps them from coming back to the island for revenge?"

Charles' eyes darken, and he knows that this is where the plan gets serious.

"Those men... They're Esteban's puppets. They hardly have a mind of their own, after decades of brainwashing. She considered an idea. If we somehow got their leader to lie... To send them back to the mainland. Esteban would have to tell them to go to Phuket and stay there for the rest of their lives. As for him, once his minions were gone, we would end his existence. But we all agreed that this is just too risky, so..." He shrugs, his eyes lacking any remorse as he says the next words. "We'll kill all of them."

He was expecting Vasyl to freak out. To question his decision of following through with this. But the Russian merely nods.

"How?"

"Poison, maybe. Or we'll just gather all of them in the huge ass fireplace room and shoot them to death. Except for Esteban, Shih wants to deal with him herself. Must be personal, I don't know. Also, there's another one I want to bring back to camp with us. He's... harmed Eleanor. So she'll be the one to decide his fate."

Thankfully, Vasyl doesn't ask any questions about the filthy bastard who's hurt Eleanor, and there's silence for a long while.

"In just five days, you will have access to the mainland again."

"Exactly. To gather our other soldiers. Just in case shit goes down... We should be prepared. We'll attack as soon as we come back to the island after nightfall. I'll leave the ship on the open sea. So Eleanor and the others will be safe."

He scowls at that, a grimace coming to his face as he moves. The wounds must be pretty bad, it's been only a week.

"How many are going? Besides the small army you will meet at Phuket?"

"Anne, me, Virgil... And two other men from the community. I didn't bother memorizing their names yet."

"Five days... I should be good as new by the time the big night comes. I don't want to back down."

Charles considers him for a few long minutes, trying to find the right words to say.

He knows  _very_  well that those wounds will take way longer to heal. There's no way Vasyl will be in shape to fight or even  _walk_ all the way to the estate in just five days.

"There's probably no nice way to say this... But it'll be better if you stay behind. You'd just slow us down... Not to mention, I would take it upon myself to watch your back. I already got Anne to worry about. Even though she can take care of herself, I know I'll be keeping an eye on her the whole time. So sit this one out. I know you're a great fighter, but it'll be better like this. I won't think any less of you... Much to the contrary. A man who knows how to pick his battles always earns some of my admiration."

Vasyl seems to be going through some sort of internal conflict, but in the end, he sighs in defeat.

" _Promise_  me you will be careful."

The ghost of a smile comes to Charles' lips. "I got a lot of motivation to stay alive. Not even a thousand men would be able to take me down, while the promise of a dream life awaits me after victory. A life with  _her_ , with my sister, back in our home. They both need me, and I have no plans of failing them."

A shadow passes Vasyl's eyes, and he seems uncomfortable for a brief moment.

Then he forces a smile.

"Your sister... How is she? I'm sure she must be a bright girl."

Charles is unable to contain his smile, raw pride shining in his eyes.

"She's the most perfect child in the world. Smart. Strong. And stubborn."

"Like her brother."

"She's beautiful." He says, meeting the Russian's eyes. "It still baffles me. How someone so  _perfect_  can be related to  _me_. Sometimes it's still hard to believe that my blood runs in her veins."

After some more silence, Vasyl clears his throat. "So, she's waiting for you back home? In the Bahamas, right?"

"No. She's somewhere else, with her adoptive mom. We'll go and collect then, once this whole mess is dealt with."

"Her  _adoptive_  mom?"

Anger flickers through Charles' eyes. "After our coward  _shit_  of a father left her... Her biological mother died from an overdose. Davina was wandering the beach alone, cold and hungry, at just six years old, when her new mom found her.

For a few seconds, Vasyl is frozen. The look in his eyes is a mix between shock, sorrow and...

_Was that regret?_

He's soon shaking his head, and Charles is unable to decode him.

"What a cold start at life. I hope she's better now."

"She's got huge abandonment issues. Just like me. But while I don't deal too well with creating bonds, she becomes overly clingy when she finds someone she trusts, someone who loves her. She has a hard time sharing, and she tends to think that everything is her fault. We're teaching her how to heal, it's a slow process."

"Poor child."

Vasyl sighs heavily, looking down at his hands as uncomfortable silence stretches between them. His eyes are still lowered, almost as if he's ashamed of something, when he speaks again.

"I don't know your father. But I know that he is the most stupid man to ever walk this planet. To give up the golden chance of having  _you_ as a son... He must have a brain the size of a pea, the poor bastard."

More silence. And Charles is surprised when the words simply tumble from his lips.

"You seem like the kind of man I would want to have as a father."

Vasyl meets his eyes hastily, a bewildered look on his face. He can't read his emotions, but a smile plays on his lips.

"Why is that?"

"You don't try to shove your ideals onto me. You don't criticize my choices, and most of all... You respect  _her_. You saved her life... Instead of trying to murder her."

His smile widens. Tears glint in his eyes and he swallows hard, trying to recover.

As beautiful as their moment was, Charles' walls are coming up again in no time, and he awkwardly reaches for the knife on his belt, examining the blade closely.

The knife Vasyl gave him.

"How's Eleanor?" The Russian asks suddenly, and he shrugs.

"She's okay. Back to normal by now. I'm thankful for every breath she draws."

The corners of Vasyl's lips twitch up, and he hesitates for a moment.

"Nothing new with her? I mean... Is everything fine...  _Normal_?"

"Pretty much. She's been  _moody_ , but she misses our home like crazy, so I understand."

"I see."

Minutes later, when Charles is about to go down the ladder, Vasyl clears his throat awkwardly.

"Have you ever thought of being a father? With that bond you share with your lady... Normally when two people share such a strong connection, they want to produce a fruit of their love-"

" _No_." He answers immediately, posture stiffening. "We don't want that. We work hard to  _avoid_ that."

"Accidents do happen."

Charles shakes his head, reaching for the ladder.

There's a strange fear in his eyes.

"If it ever happens, we'll  _deal_  with it... Eleanor shares the sentiment. No kid of mine will be brought into this world.  _Ever_."

Vasyl seem to be battling with something for a moment, watching as he went down the ladder.

Then he smiles, and they lock eyes as soon as Charles makes it back to ground level.

"Give your Eleanor a long hug for me. And please feel free to come back,  _son_."

It doesn't make him uncomfortable.

A smile tugs at his lips.

"I will."

* * *

**Bavarian Alps**

**09:00 AM**

His eye roll is automatic when the wet rag hits him.

"An idiot. You're such a reckless  _idiot_."

Sighing, Billy just removes the rag from his shoulder and goes back to cleaning the breakfast dishes with his cousin.

"We're in the middle of nowhere and you have no way to protect yourselves!"

"How do you know that?" He snaps, and Mary scoffs.

Yesterday, he decided to just tell her already. She was suspicious, noticing the changes in his relationship with Abigail. If she found out on her own, it would be chaos.

Still, she's not too happy about the news.

"You better control yourself. I know you haven't slept with anyone in more than a year."

" _Geez_ , thank you Mary." He says, feeling his cheeks burn.

She always had the gift to embarrass him.

It's a good thing Abigail is upstairs playing with Davina.

"I don't want you to  _stain_  her. So don't even think about taking that relationship of yours to the next level for now."

A frown comes to his face.

"What do you mean?"

"The girl is  _pure_ , you idiot. She doesn't have any STDs because she's still a virgin, she told me so."

So his suspicions were correct.

Not sure how he felt about that, he tries to focus on washing Davina's cereal bowl.

"And you-"

"I  _always_  took care of myself, thank you very much."

"Still."

"I'm  _not_ crawling with diseases, Mary. I'm  _clean_. And even if I wasn't clean, I would  _never_  pass her anything. Not intentionally." He meets his cousin's eyes, making a face. "Jesus, what kind of person do you think I am?"

Mary narrows her eyes at him as they're finishing their task.

"You think you're going to be in deep shit when Eleanor comes here and finds out about this? It's  _nothing_ compared to what I'm going to do to you if you hurt that innocent child in any way."

"She's not  _that_  innocent." He mumbles under his breath, walking in the direction of the door.

"What was that?"

Stopping in his tracks, Billy turns around and raises an eyebrow at her, a sarcastic smirk on his lips.

"You are absolutely right and I will not go against your word, oh queen almighty of the whole universe."

"That's better."

He shakes his head at her, letting out a chuckle as he left the kitchen.

After pouring herself some coffee, one of her new addictions after she decided to cut down on alcohol for Davina's sake, she stares out the window.

Something catches her eye immediately.

There's a wolf, partially hidden in the woods. Somehow, she knows it's a female.

That voice she hears in her dreams echo through her head.

_My she wolf._

Letting out a broken sigh, she closes the small curtain.

But that deep sorrow is already filling her heart again, and as usual, she has no idea where it comes from.

She has no idea what it means, or what is it she's  _yearning_  for.

* * *

**Shih Island**

**03:00 PM**

"When did you stop attending school?"

The teen makes a face, and the reddish portion of skin on her collarbones catches his eye again.

She says she's not sure if it's a birthmark, or if she burned herself when she was little.

"I was 15."

"You still have your sophomore,junior and senior year to conclude then, young lady. And I will make sure you do."

Her grimace is automatic, a slight pout coming to her lips.

"Jaaack."

"Ah ah. Don't you ' _Jaaack_ ' me, I promised to take care of you, that includes giving you a proper education. I will even send you to college - which reminds me; have you ever thought about a particular area? Maybe you'd like law school?"

There's a hopeful glint in his eyes, but it fades away as soon as Carly shakes her head in disgust.

"We'll figure something out, I suppose."

"Anne didn't conclude high school."

"That's because I homeschooled her myself." He pauses, shrugging to himself. "Or I  _tried_  to, at least."

She huffs in annoyance, a proper teenager right in front of him. "I can just get a job at Ellie's tavern."

"First step to win her good graces; don't ever call her ' _Ellie_ '. Fair warning."

Carly laughs, shoving his shoulder half-heartedly before taking off towards the ocean.

"Careful with the coral reefs, kid!" He calls out, watching her go for a moment before turning around just as Eleanor walked up to him.

"Having fun being a dad?"

"She's impossible."

Chuckling, the blonde sits down on the sand. He soon does the same.

"I'm sure you will manage."

They watch the ocean for a while, Jack's eyes always following Carly's every move.

"Everything okay?"

"With me? Yes. I think the venom is completely gone by now. As for the baby-" She nearly chokes on the word, but there's not too much fear in her eyes anymore. "I think we're in luck. One week already and I don't feel anything different. There was no bleeding, not even spotting. And I still feel the usual pregnancy effects. I'm still tired and craving salty foods like crazy. So I think it's safe to say we both escaped death."

He sighs in relief, a smile tugging at his lips.

"You know, now that you're more open... I think you should know. By the end of the week it won't be considered an embryo anymore." She raises an eyebrow, and he glances down at her exposed stomach for a split second. "It's a  _fetus_  now, our little accident."

Half expecting her to get to her feet and walk away, he looks at the ocean again.

Minutes go by, and she makes no move to leave.

"Can you... tell me more? About... his or her development? What's going on right now?"

His eyes fill with joy when he looks at her face, quickly searching his brain for the info she requested.

"Nails are starting to form. Can you imagine how tiny they must be? Considering he's not even two inches long yet. The limbs can bend. His or her fingers are separated. Our little accident is starting to look more and more like a human being now. The skin's still translucent for now though."

She averts her eyes, but he doesn't fail to see the corners of her lips twitching up.

"A week ago... When faced with the thought of losing him or her, of going through a miscarriage... I was  _terrified_."

Lowering his eyes to the sand, Jack hesitates for a moment.

"I will be very honest with you. Turmeric... It's not exactly safe for pregnant women to ingest that, and alcohol... You know. Not to mention the venom. And I'm not sure whether all the antivenin you received had a negative effect or not. We should prepare ourselves. There could be complications. Maybe a mental disorder. Maybe a limb or two won't develop properly. We just can't be sure for now. All we can do is hope for the best... And prepare for the worst."

Eleanor nods at his words, sighing heavily. He catches the faintest trace of despair on her face.

"I just wish I could see a doctor. I want an ultrasound so bad. To make sure everything is okay."

"We'll be back in the mainland very soon. I can go with you."

She smirks, seeing right through him. "You just can't wait to hear that heartbeat, can you? To see that tiny little thing on a screen."

"Uncle Jack is excited, so? Can you blame him?" He bumps her shoulder with his lightly as she shakes her head. "Since you welcome it now... Maybe you should start looking for your courage?"

The humor vanishes from her eyes, and she tenses up.

"It should be easier to inform the father of the baby now, correct? He'll start noticing soon enough anyway."

"He already is. He says my stomach feels firmer. He's been pointing out some stuff about my hair, my skin. I'm  _changing_ , and he's noticing."

_Of course he is._

"Some women start showing at this stage or even earlier. It will be painfully evident soon, darling. Maybe even next week. The baby will begin to grow a lot from now on. You won't be able to keep lying to him when a bump starts to show. I know he's slow when it comes to certain stuff, but he  _will_  catch up."

There's a heavy silence, and he's surprised by what she says next.

"I  _want_  to."

Frowning in confusion, he looks from Carly to her face. "You do?"

"Yeah. Every time... Every single time he touches my stomach, I just want him to know. I  _need_  him to know. I need his support." Fear shines in her eyes. It's heartbreaking, and he offers her a sympathetic look. "But what if I don't get it? What if he turns his back on me?"

"You'll still have me. And Anne. But I can assure you, he won't do that. He may get a little angry, because of his issues. Bear with him. You've been hiding this for a while now,  _lying_  to him, I assume he won't be pleased about that. But from the second he learns about the baby, he won't leave your side. He won't leave like Lorenzo left him. Like the governor left Aiden... Or like Richard left you. He just won't. I promise."

She swallows hard.

"Deep inside... I  _know_."

Bringing a reassuring hand to her shoulder, he gives her a nod of encouragement.

"Then do it... You're strong enough. And everything will be just fine."

* * *

**Los Angeles**

**02:00 AM**

Mason clenches his jaw hard as he makes it to the door, the sound of glass shattering coming from inside.

Entering his younger brother's room in the mansion, he crosses his arms over his chest.

"I spoke to our lawyers. And the police is already trying to locate her. She had no right to run away with your son, and we do have chances of tearing Aiden away from her, as soon as we discover her current location. She could be still on the run, but Mrs. Hudson is working hard on the investigations too. But there is one thing." He steps further inside the room, making sure to close the door behind him. "You told me you had a little fit, just before you left the house. How much damage do you think you caused?"

"Does it matter?" His brother snaps, and his patience runs thinner.

"You  _know_  it does. If she presses charges, if she fights back by showing the evidence of what you did to her, your chances of getting full custody of Aiden go down. We can't afford to let her win."

"She  _won't_." Woodes spits the words out, and Mason shakes his head in disgust.

"I told you, I told you from _day one_  that bringing a beggar into this family would not end well. And at the only time you actually needed to keep her close to us, you drive her away."

Indignation fills his eyes, and the younger man scoffs.

"Are you saying this was  _my_  fault?"

"Yes, brother, this is  _exactly_  what I'm saying. Everything that's been happening lately is your fault. Because you refuse to let go of your sick, twisted fantasies, now there's a chance I will never see my nephew again. He was our family's hope, and now he's gone because of  _you_."

His brother trembles in anger for a moment.

"If you knew what I'm going through-"

" _No_!" It's a powerful roar, echoing through the vast accommodations. "Ever since father died you became shallow. Selfish and wicked, adrift in your own little world where nothing else matters but your own interests-"

"Says the man who refused to respect father's dying wish! Half the fortune he left us was supposed to be donated to cancer institutions, and you ignored that!"

"So did you. Coming to think of it... Maybe we're being punished. Maybe that was one final test of his, and we  _failed_. That's why everything is going to hell right before our eyes."

Laughing in contempt, Woodes comes to a stop in front of his brother. "So that's what you think this is? Divine punishment?"

"It doesn't matter what it is. But you have seen what your obsessions have caused. And I swear to God, brother, if something happens to my nephew, if you refuse to let go of your distorted fantasies, I will take drastic measures."

"Such as?"

Mason opens his mouth, hesitating for a couple of seconds. But in the end, he rushes to the door. Looking at his brother over his shoulder, he speaks, anguish flickering through his eyes.

"I will commit you to a mental institution."

* * *

**Shih Island**

**11:00 PM**

Her palms are sweating. Her heart is drumming in her chest.

And her mind is made up.

Still, her resolve almost falters when Charles comes into their shelter, completely wet from the ocean.

It  _almost_  falters.

He comes over to the bunk, grabbing a gentle hold of her chin and bending to press a kiss to her lips. There's a half smile on his face as he pulls away, his fingers stroking her cheek briefly.

She watches as he rummages through his bag, soon finding what he was looking for.

"Want some? Or are you still going through your weird 'no alcohol' bullshit?" He asks, rum bottle in hand.

It's the perfect opportunity, and she grasps it gratefully.

_He's just made things a little bit easier._

As Charles searches around for the flask she gave him, her voice fills their shelter. She somehow keeps it from breaking, her tone firm.

"I will not be drinking tonight... or for the next seven months, more or less."

He stops what he's doing, meeting her eyes with a frown on his face.

"What?"

Tears threaten to come as she swallows hard, scared as hell.

_Now or never._

"Charles, I'm pregnant."


	59. Choosing a Path

His rare laughter fills their shelter, and Eleanor frowns at him.

"No, you're  _not_."

He thinks she's joking, and she swallows hard. She feels adrift, unsure how to proceed now.

All she wants is to break down and cry her eyes out.

"I'm ten weeks along, more or less. And I decided I'm keeping the baby."

It feels so surreal, but she's on autopilot. Charles' smirk of amusement begins to fade away. She can't read the look in his eyes, but she  _doesn't_  like it.

Still, she forces a half smile.

"I'm carrying our child, you're going to be a father-"

"Ten weeks." His interruption is like a whip, striking her back and slshing her flesh open. Even though she has no idea how that feels.

Her weak smile disappears at once. His voice is harsh, lacking any happiness, just as she expected. He sounds so angry that she actually flinches.

Eleanor realizes he's trying to do the math in his head, so she's quick to make things easier for him.

"The ship. Your birthday."

"You said-" He lets out a dry laugh, clear evidence of how nervous and  _livid_  he is. "Two weeks ago, you said you were about to have your period. You said everything was just  _fine_."

Tears come to her eyes, but she bravely holds them back.

For now, at least.

It feels as if her heart is being torn to shreds as she says the next two words, quietly, guilt taking her over.

"I lied."

She had never seen him like this before. The look on his face is so foreign, but there  _is_  something familiar in his eyes.

Hatred. Indignation.

_Raw anger._

Her tears are about to win so she breaks eye contact.

And then he's leaving.

" _Anne_!" She hears him yell, raising her head just in time to see the redhead walking out of the neighboring tent and following him without a second's hesitation. The flap in their own shelter is secured by a string, so she can see some of the campgrounds.

She can see as they disappear into the dark jungle, taking two or three rum bottles with them.

Only Anne looks at her over her shoulder for a moment.

_Only Anne._

She wants to cry, but she's just so stunned to react. Her brain is trying to fully comprehend what just happened-

Rushed footsteps sound from outside, and she's staring down at her trembling hands as someone comes inside the tent.

One look at her, and Jack knows what the problem is.

"Oh, darling."

The dam is broken, and sobs begin to wrack her body as he rushes to the bunk.

"I thought we were going to fight, and he would give me the cold shoulder for a while... Nothing could have prepared me for  _this_."

She meets Jack's eyes as he sits by her side, her tears flowing nonstop.

"He  _left_." Her voice is a broken thing, she just tries to breathe for a moment but it's not an easy task. "He left, Jack. Just like Lorenzo, just like Woodes, just like  _my father_."

"It's not like he's leaving forever, he just needs to clear his head. Give him some time, I promise he'll come around." He tries, rubbing reassuring circles on her back as she buries her face in her hands.

There is only on thought on her mind.

"He doesn't want our baby."

Sighing heavily, Jack gets to his feet and walks to the entrance of the tent. After untying the flap and making sure they had privacy, he grabs the first clean blanket he sees and puts it around her shoulders.

"Do you have any idea how  _terrified_  he must be right now?"

Fear flickers through her own eyes, and Eleanor lets out a choked sob. "I don't want him or her to grow up without a father. To  _suffer_  like I did-"

"Eleanor, he  _will_  be back. He won't leave you, especially not now. He won't walk away from either of you."

Her tears simply keep coming. Jack knows she's drowning in guilt and regret, wishing she hadn't waited so long. Maybe Charles' reaction wouldn't have been so bad.

He knows there's nothing he can do for her right now, except stay by her side and try to offer her some comfort.

She doesn't fight as he pulls her into his arms, moving so his back touched the log wall. His fingers weave through her hair as she rests her head on his shoulder, not giving a shit about how vulnerable she looks. Her emotions are just too messy,  _she_  is just too messy, too needy.

So she basks in the comfort of her friend's arms, grateful to have him here. The last thing she wants is to be alone now.

Sleep comes in a couple of hours for her, even though she keeps sobbing softly from times to times. Jack's eyes remain open, and he just hopes these two idiots will return to the campgrounds soon...

This wish doesn't come true.

* * *

Once dawn comes, the flap is pulled aside and he tenses up for a moment.

Only one of them is back.

"How is she?"

He sighs at Anne's question, shrugging and moving uncomfortably. His back hurts but he doesn't want to disturb Eleanor's peace.

"Cried herself to sleep in my arms last night. I guess it's safe to say she's not doing any good."

"He doesn't wanna come back."

He just stares at his partner blankly for a moment.

"What do you mean?"

"He doesn't. Said he won't be able to bear the sight of her... Knowing she's carrying his kid."

With a scowl, he shakes his head, unable to believe this was real.

"This is bad. It's really bad."

"Were you expecting such a reaction?"

" _No_. I knew it wouldn't be easy, but... Where is he right now?"

The redhead shrugs, he can see she's still a little drunk.

"Somewhere up on the trees."

"Darling, please... Get him to come back. Eleanor is really desperate, this can't be good for the baby."

Some anger comes to her eyes.

"I told him that. He said ' _screw it_ '." Jack's eyes widen, and she soon explains. "He was drunk off his ass-

"That is  _no_  excuse. This isn't him. I can't believe-" Rubbing his forehead and trying to ignore his exhaustion, he sighs heavily. "Keep an eye on him. Don't let him do anything stupid. I'll keep an eye on this one."

She nods, her concerned eyes lingering on Eleanor's sleeping face before she turns around to leave the tent.

"Anne." He calls out and she stops, looking at him over her shoulder. "Please let him know I am  _extremely_  disappointed with him."

After staying silent for a moment, she starts to walk again. He hears her muttered " _you ain't alone_ ", just before she leaves the tent.

As if somewhat aware of the news he's just received, Eleanor stirs in his arms, a heartbreaking sound leaving her lips.

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, Jack holds her tighter, trying to think of what he will say to her once she wakes up and realizes that Charles is not here.

* * *

_**Los Angeles** _

_**21 years ago** _

_They're both trembling from the cold, it was probably not a good idea to leave their beds in the middle of the night. But they have a goal, and they **will**  achieve it, no matter what._

_10 years._

_10 years of growing up in this place, having no idea who he is, no idea why he's here._

_It's not like he talks to the adults, but he's asked a few times, when his curiosity got the best of him. He asked about his origins, about his parents, about how in the world he ended up here._

**_Why?_ **

_In the end, that's the only answer he really wants. He just needs a reason, he just needs to know why they did this to him._

_Why didn't they want him? What did he do?_

_Jack has a past. He knows why he's here, he knows all about his origins._

_And Red, she's probably too little to keep any memories, but when she's older they will make sure to let her know about her past too, if she asks._

_As for him..._

_His own past is a blank slate, painfully empty, like a hole on his chest. No one tells him anything, and he's been here for as long as he can remember._

_All he has is the anchor pendant, but it's not enough._

**_Not anymore._ **

_That's why they've been doing this every night for a month now. Sneaking out of bed and searching every single inch of this place. The other kids say that there's a room somewhere, a room where the adults keep files on all of them. Some even say such files hold their parents' names, and everything about their origins._

_What a treasure._

_A treasure he wants, **needs** to put his hands on._

_They never had any success in their hunts, but tonight, he finally had enough. He finally decided to go to the one place Jack always tried to keep him away from._

_"Chas, I don't like this..." His friend mutters as they stop in front of the big double doors. Some parts of it are made of glass, but it's so damaged that they can barely see through it._

_"Lair of the dragon." He says with a half smirk, and Jack gives him a bored look._

_The office of the head of the orphanage, an old woman they almost never see. But when they do, they believe they're face to the face with the devil._

_He's probably the only kid who's never been afraid of her._

_"What if she's in there?"_

_Ignoring Jack's question, he tries the door knobs, just to make sure._

_The office is locked, but he came prepared._

_Reaching inside his pocket, Charles retrieves the lockpick he made himself. It's time to test it._

_"How do you even know how to do this?" Jack mutters after a few minutes of silence and he shrugs, eyebrows furrowed as he concentrated on working on the lock._

_"Just learned. You need to listen to the clicks."_

_"How can you be so smart sometimes and so stupid-" He falls silent when the doors open._

_There's some admiration shining in his eyes; his best friend is just the coolest, most amazing kid he's ever met. Jack wishes he was cool like him sometimes._

_The office is empty, covered in dust and some spider webs, and the two boys immediately begin their search._

_It feels as if the shelves and cabinets are endless, not to mention the papers. A lot of legal bullshit, Charles has a headache just from looking at it._

_Nothing concerning the orphans, only the adults._

_"Just so unhygienic." Jack complains about the place, and it only makes him even more irritated._

_He's starting to clench his jaw in anger, but when he reaches a dusty piece of furniture in the corner, when he opens one of the shelves, his heart leaps to his throat._

_Somehow, he just knows he's found it._

_The files have letters on them, and he searches for the letter C after getting his friend's attention._

_It's just him and other two boys, so he quickly finds his file._

_Jack is spying curiously over his shoulder as he begins to sort through it._

_More legal bullshit and he rolls his eyes, turning page after page, ignoring Jack as he said there could be something important._

_Just as he's starting to lose all his hope, he finds it._

_A smaller piece of paper, a little stained, as if it got we a long time ago._

**_"Charles_ **

**_Date of birth: 14/07/1987"_ **

_That handwriting brings a wave of dejavu over him. His fingertips trace each word, each number gently. He's scared to ruin this delicate treasure, but he just needed to touch it._

_"This was written by your parents." Jack says in awe and he frowns, not taking his eyes off the paper._

_"It was! The adults that took a care of you after you came here, they used typing machines to write all those others pages... and this paper is different. It makes sense. Your parents probably gave this to them, so they would know your name and your birthday!"_

_His confusion only grows._

_"Why write it down instead of telling them..." Charles trails off as soon as he sees the next page._

_Silence reigns while they read everything._

_"Healthy baby boy found on our doorstep during the night, approximately two months old, date: 28/08/1987._

_Had a necklace around his neck, anchor pendant hanging from the string._

_A piece of paper held his name and supposed date of birth._

_Skin: White._

_Hair: Chocolate._

_Eyes: Blue._

_Weight: 12.4 pounds._

_Height: 24 inches._

_DNA tests were unsuccessful._

_It's the report."_

_His eyes skim over the words over and over again. His blood is boiling._

_How dare they?_

_How dare they make this so blunt? It's his past, everything he's ever wanted to know, everything he's ever **yearned**  to know, and all he has is a brief, cold report._

_As if he's nothing but a lifeless piece of merchandise._

_But that's not the only thing causing him pain at the moment._

_"They just left me."_

_"Chas..."_

_"Like I was nothing. I was a **baby**  and they left me."_

_Tears burn in his eyes but he won't let them out, no matter what._

_Not now._

_Maybe later, when no one is awake to see._

_"Maybe they were just trying to give you your best chance. Maybe they had no money. Grown-ups can't raise babies if they have no money... They need to buy a lot of stuff. Think about it. They left the necklace and your name. That means they **cared,**  right?"_

_"They should have found a way!" He speaks through gritted teeth, shoving the file back into the shelf and slamming it shut with all his strength._

_Jack flinches, following him as he stormed out of the office._

_Charles eventually comes to a stop by one of the windows, just as loud thunder roars outside. A soft drizzle begins to hit the glass._

_Whatever internal conflict his friend is going through right now, Jack sees it in his eyes when he makes a decision._

_"I'm never going to be a dad." Charles declares without looking at him, and he scowls._

_"That's not true. We won't be little forever and one day, you will want a family. Like every grown-up does."_

_He shakes his head violently, and Jack sees the tears glinting in his eyes when a flash of lightening strikes._

_"Not me."_

_"Why are you saying that?"_

_Letting out a shuddering breath, he touches his forehead to the cold glass._

_"Because I don't want to be like **them.** "_

* * *

**Shih Island**

**Present days**

The bottle is nearly empty, and it's worrisome. The mere thought of having to return to camp...

No, he can just send Anne for more alcohol.

Finally moving from the thick branch he's occupying, Charles grips the bottle tightly while jumping down to the "terrace" of the tree house. Even though he's drunk, he lands gracefully.

His instincts just told him to come here, and he's not sober enough to try and think this through.

The first thing he sees is the cover of Vasyl's book. Madame Shih must have brought it here earlier.

Strange letters. Such a different alphabet, different from the one he knows. He wonders how people can even memorize the complicated figures.

"Charles, I was wondering-" The Russian falls silent, frowning as he noticed how drunk the younger man was.

"Son, is everything alright?"

"She's  _pregnant_." It's as if the word is acid, burning his tongue. He nearly chokes on it.

Vasyl sets his book aside, gesturing for him to come closer. Charles settles on the log near his, taking a long swig from the rum.

"How do you feel about that?"

He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out at first. Vasyl waits patiently as several minutes go by.

"I don't know." His shoulders are tense, and he shakes his head. "The things I've faced. Things most people in this world can't even  _begin_  to imagine. Abandoned as a baby. Had to raise myself and learn how to stand my ground long before I even learned how to  _read_. Managed to survive in the streets of South-Central LA at just ten years old; first time I ever escaped the orphanage."

He can't decode the look that comes to Vasyl's face. It's not pity, but the Russian seems to be trying to picture it all in his mind; him as a little boy, all alone in those dangerous streets.

Those familiar eyes fill with sorrow and concern, even though Charles is safe now, right in front of him.

"Robbed banks, right under the police's nose. Got shot.  _Twice_. Rode the motorcycle like a madman, sometimes in the wrong lane,  _without_  a helmet, and never suffered one single accident. I wasn't fearless. No. But I always challenged myself, looking for danger and refusing to let my fear get the best of me."

"And now you're doing just that."

He sighs heavily, knowing that was the truth.

"I promised myself, long ago, that I would never father a child."

"May I ask why?"

"Because I'm  _his_ son."

A heavy silence stretches, and he watches as Vasyl battles with something, trying to make a decision.

"That's right, you  _are_  his son. But you're not him. Unless you allow yourself to be."

Raising the bottle to his lips, he shakes his head. His eyes fall closed as the liquid burns his throat.

"He's such a rotten piece of  _shit_. Capable of poisoning me even though I've never seen him. I've no idea what he looks like. Who he is. But still, the amount of power this man has over me-" His jaw clenches hard. Just like his right fist. "My whole life, I nursed on this anger. This hatred. The story I built about my past was wrong, I used to believe they'd abandoned me there.  _Both_  of them. So I spent two entire decades hating them with all my strength. It was easier. But recently, I learned that my mother... She  _did_  love me. Naomi; she loved me to death. So I transferred all that hate to my father, only my father. What he did to me... Especially what he did to  _Davina_ -"

"I understand your anger. I understand your fear. I know what it's like to be left behind. And I know, from experience, that if you let your fear cripple you... You'll end up becoming what you hate the most."

Vasyl seems ready to snatch the bottle away from his hands when Charles takes another long drink. But he stays put.

"She said I had to break free from these chains. Eleanor. She said I gotta stop being his slave. But I don't know if it's possible. There's only one way to break this curse, to put my mind at ease."

"And what is it?"

"I have to find my father. I have to  _kill_  him."

Vasyl swallows hard, and Charles fails to see the way he moves away, briefly, his shoulders becoming tense.

"Who's to say it will work? Besides, is this the kind of example you wish to set for Davina?"

He just stares into the older man's eyes, a blank look on his face. For a moment, Vasyl fears for his safety, unable to decode him.

But then they're interrupted.

"Time to go." A gruff voice says from the entrance of the tree house, and Charles scoffs in contempt. Still, he gets to his feet, storming over to the redhead and leaving the place without saying a word.

* * *

One look at the sky and he knows it's past 5 in the afternoon already. Which means he's been drinking for 18 hours straight now.

It's the third bottle he finishes, and his jaw clenches as he realizes there's no alcohol left.

"Go to the ship, and get some more from my cabin." He gives the order, listening as his protégée walked behind him.

"Like  _hell_  I will."

Turning around harshly, he glares at her in warning. She's not intimidated in the slightest.

Charles doesn't think he ever saw her looking at him like this.

She seems ready to cut him to pieces.

"How long have you two known?"

Anne keeps his eyes bravely, leaning against a tree trunk and crossing her arms over her chest.

"He knew from the beginning. Since the moment she found out, that is. And I found out when she was 'round seven weeks along."

"You've known for three weeks and you didn't say a word to me-"

" _Wasn't_  my place to tell you."

Throwing the empty bottle against the nearest tree, he lets out a humorless laugh.

"Now she's turning my fuckin' crew against me."

Anne watches as he paces around the clearing slowly, the sunset glow creating what should be a beautiful atmosphere.

But she's just so damn  _pissed_.

"I always looked up to you, ya know."

"Go back to camp, Red."

His order is promptly and fully ignored. Pushing off of the tree trunk, she begins to stalk over to him like a hunting jaguar.

"Always saw you as my role model. Always wanted to be _just like you_." Her lithe body contrasts with his as she stops in front of him with a sneer on her face. "Right now, you fuckin'  _disgust_  me. What ya so scared of, you asshole? She's the one who'll go through all the hardships, all the challenges, all the physical pain. She's the one who'll risk her life at childbirth, the one who'll go through absurd levels of suffering to bring  _your_  baby into this world, you damned, _ungrateful bastard_."

It's the first time she ever speaks to him like this. The first time she challenges him so openly. Stunned into silence, Charles can barely recognize her. He can't look away from her eyes either.

"And guess what? You're making things even harder on her. How can ya say you love her? She's already going through  _shit_. And somehow I know it'll only get worse as the months go by. You should be  _worshipping_  her right now. Much more than you ever did."

His eyes narrow as he hears the scorn in her tone, when she says the last sentence.

"So you better man up. You better face all those demons of yours, you better find the strength to slay them, to overcome them just like you overcame everything else life's ever thrown at us. You better man up, and you better do it  _soon_." She seethes through gritted teeth, her face mere inches away from his, breath hot against his cheeks. He can practically feel as she emanates anger. Her cold index finger pokes his chest hard, as if she's a bully threatening a scrawny kid. Except he's taller and stronger than her. "Or else I swear on mine and Jack's life... I may just forget you were my mentor once, I may just forget you are my  _brother_."

The familiarity of this last part of her speech knocks the breath out of his lungs for a moment.

And of course, Charles knows she means every single word she's said.

_Every single word._

* * *

**Campgrounds**

**Six hours later**

They ended up in the same situation from last night.

It would be easy to confuse them for a couple, she's lying on her side and resting her head on his lap as he holds her, his back to the log wall.

She's been depressed all day, staring at the jungle. Sometimes she would get angry and snap at anyone who talked to her, even him.

Jack doesn't blame her for it.

He's half asleep, finally succumbing to the exhaustion now that Eleanor is at peace again, for a few hours.

When someone grabs a hold of his shoulder, his eyes snap open and he's immediately on alert mode. But there's no threat, just a familiar face shrouded in darkness.

"Talk to him. He's at the beach. I managed to make him sober up and he agreed to come back."

Raising an eyebrow, Jack looks down at the sleeping blonde.

"I'll watch her."

After a moment's hesitation, he nods, gently lifting Eleanor's head and replacing his lap with a pillow.

She stirs, her eyes remain closed.

Heaving a sigh, he shares a quick hug with Anne, kissing the top of her head before walking out of the tent.

It's surprisingly hard to rein in his anger when he catches sight of the lone figure sitting on the sand.

His best friend is staring at the ship, and it's as if Jack can hear his thoughts.

"I  _know_  what you're thinking right now." He begins, approaching his leader slowly. "Board the ship. Leave this place behind, call Flint to come pick her up. He'd make sure to get her out of here safely, and in the meantime, you would be searching for your uncle. To murder him? Of course, if it was the only way to ensure Eleanor's survival. And Rogers would be next in line."

His jaw clenches, a sign that lets Jack know he's right. "Yes, your mission will be one and one alone: To rid this world of each and every threat to her safety, to your child's safety... And once you are satisfied... You will disappear into this vast world, just like Lorenzo did all these years ago. Leaving another child with the same question that haunted you for decades. The question that haunted  _her_  for decades;  _Why_?"

He's right beside him now, but after all these years of dealing with this man, Jack has learned a lot. He knows it's not safe to sit down by his side just yet.

"' _Why_  didn't he want me?  _Why_  did I have to be such a burden?' Dear uncle Jack won't be enough to fill in the hole left by an absent father, no. Grandpa Scott and grandpa Flint won't suffice either. And what about auntie Davina,  _what_  will she think of all that? An unborn child loses its dad, and a little girl loses her big hero." His anger grows a little and his voice grows significantly less gentle. "All because you have to be so goddamn  _afraid_ -"

Charles shoots him a murderous look, meeting his eyes, and he catches himself.

At least he got a reaction.

Deciding to try a different approach, Jack looks over at the ship too.

"All those years ago. When my dad dumped me in that hellhole. I promised myself that I would never abandon my future kids. Little did I know, said kids would never come." His heart clenches painfully and he swallows hard. "I would  _love_  to receive that blessing. A child,  _our_  child. A piece of her, a piece of me. Mixing together to create this... perfect little treasure."

Charles' eyes are lowered to the sand when he looks at him again. This is the first time he ever mentions this.

"But she doesn't share the sentiment, so what can I do?"

Watching as Charles' shoulders relax a bit, he decides it's time to sit down with him. And he does so, carefully.

"You're not afraid to throw yourself in front of a bullet to save her life... And now you're scared of being a father. The father of her child.  _Her_ ; the only woman you have ever loved. The only woman you  _could_  ever love. Remember when you told me... About how you couldn't bear the thought of the governor's baby growing inside her? Now it's  _yours_."

Jack thinks he sees something in his eyes, but whatever it as, it's gone before he can ever try to analyze it further.

"It takes  _two_. This isn't the Holy Bible, she didn't conceive without a man's help. What you're doing here is selfish, irresponsible and a tremendous show of lack of empathy. If you walk away from this, all the admiration I've ever felt for you, the admiration Anne's ever felt... It will be gone. The same can be said for Davina. She will grow up, asking about you. I do  _not_  intend to hide the truth from her. How do you think she will feel? Seeing her big hero walking in her father's footsteps? You promised that little girl, Chas. You  _promised_  her this would never happen. You promised her that you would never become  _him_."

His words hit the right spot and Charles lets out a shuddering breath, stress evident in every muscle of his body as he rubbed his forehead.

"I understand this is hard. Probably the toughest challenge you have ever faced. Because this is something you can't fight against, in the way you're used to. You can't use your physical strength to win this time."

The waves break at their feet, almost close enough to reach them, and Jack waits for a few minutes.

"You opened your heart to Eleanor. To Davina. And it scares you to death, the thought of loving another human being so strongly-"

" _Yes_."

Charles' voice is rougher than usual as he interrupts him, and he frowns in confusion.

"Yes?"

"It's our kid in there." His leader says, looking at his and Eleanor's shelter for a second. "Of  _course_  I love it. I love it to death."

His words are a huge, pleasant surprise. Jack wasn't expecting this at all, but before he can even open his mouth to say anything else, Charles crushes his hopes.

"That's exactly why I  _can't_  do this. I'd be a shit as a father and I just  _can't_  disappoint either of them."

"If you leave, you will be disappointing them all the same. In fact, it would be even worse. They would forever remember that you didn't even bother to  _try_. Who does that sound like? Your father, Eleanor's... Is this  _really_  what you want to become? Years from now, when she's reading bedtime stories and that little voice asks about  _papa_  for the first time... What do you think she will answer? Knowing her, it will be something along the lines of ' _he was a shit and we don't need him_.' And I'm sorry, but I won't deny that story. I will be in no place to do so."

Charles scowls, as if only fully realizing it now.

"You and Anne would stay with her... Just like that?"

"We have a niece or nephew to consider now. So if you choose this path tonight-" He gestures towards the ship, shaking his head briefly. "...I cannot stop you. I will  _not_  stop you. Just remember you will be cutting ties with four people. The love of your life, your son or daughter... And  _us_. We won't follow you anymore, if you decide to become  _him_. I'm speaking for Anne and for myself. And honestly, I won't be sorry about it. Not in the slightest. And neither will your protégée."

He gets to his feet, swallowing hard. His eyes fill with sorrow.

"Think it through. I hope you're strong enough,  _brother.._. Would be a shame for us to part ways again."

His eyes linger on his leader's face for a moment, then he's walking back towards the tent.

Charles stares at it for a while, scoffing to himself.

Deep inside, he always knew she would one day find a way to steal his crew, right from under his nose. His brother and his sister.

_He always knew._

The thought brings a half smirk to his face, and his eyes soften as he sits there, staring at the shelter he's built with his own bare hands.

His queen is in there. With his most trusted crewmembers. How he wishes he could be there with them right now.

_With his family._

_His **child.**_

Hours pass by and he hardly even notices. Everything Jack has said keeps playing over and over in his mind, and  _hell_ , even his ship seems to judging him.

She's swaying there on the waves, and for the 100pth time, he almost gets to his feet. He almost swims all the way over the Ranger, he almost follows through with his plans.

A sudden thought comes to his mind.

If they could hear  _inside_  her right now, there would be a heartbeat other than her own.

A lump forms in his throat, tears burning in his eyes.

Her heartbeat. One of his favorite sounds in the whole world. What would it feel like to hear their child's too? Would it sound like hers? Would it be slower, softer? Or faster and louder?

His tears come so dangerously close to escaping, and he simply cannot understand what is going on with him. Why did he get so emotional, just from thinking about a tiny little heart?

His baby's heart.

He catches himself trying to picture it in his mind; a little face containing their features. What would his face look like, mixed with hers?

This takes him back in time, three hundred years back in time, and he scowls.

When he was about to die, staring at her for the last time, a strange thought came to his mind.

He wished he could be leaving something for people to remember him by.

A legacy.

_A child._

A child with his blood, but also with a pair of stubborn blue-green eyes. Or a delicate, perfect nose. Or those regal cheeks, the faint freckles he loved to count.

During his last seconds of life, for the first time ever, he wished he was a  _father_.

And of course, there wasn't anyone else he would want as the mother of his baby.

_A piece of her, a piece of me._

How come he completely forgot about this?

A flow of forbidden, taboo thoughts come crashing over him.

What would it feel like; the weight of a newborn in his arms? How different would that be from holding his sister? What would it sound like; soft cries echoing through the ship in the middle of the night and waking everyone up?

What would it feel like to be a  _father_ , to be  _alive_  for his child?

_Mixing together to create this... perfect little treasure._

_Their_  little treasure.

_What would it feel like?_

He's never been so fucking scared in his two lifetimes.

Hastily, he gets to his feet, eyes glued to the ship. But instead of throwing himself into the water and swimming all the way over to it, he heads to their shelter.

He has no intention to enter it, but one peek wouldn't hurt-

His heart suddenly feels so  _full_.

The three of them look just like a trio of teenage girls after a slumber party.

Jack's lap has become a pillow for their girls, red and blonde hair mixing together. His best friend is half-sitting, half-lying on the bunk, his neck bent at a painful angle as he leaned against the log wall.

Their faces are peaceful, and his eyes linger on Eleanor's right hand.

It's covering her lower stomach protectively, and he swallows hard.

What does it look like right now? He almost feels tempted to go to the ship, raid Jack and Anne's cabin and look for his friend's many medical books.

Just so he can know what a fetus looks like at 10 weeks.

_10 weeks._

This is  _crazy_.

All he wants is to walk inside the tent and stay with them. But he just can't.

His heart feels heavy as he lets the flap fall closed again. Turning around and walking to the big covered area at the back of the camp, he tries to calm his thoughts.

Luckily, there's a vacant hammock, and he claims it for himself.

As the members of his crew snore all around him, he closes his eyes. It's strange to sleep like this; he's grown used -  _addicted_  - to holding her in his arms every night.

How he  _misses_  the weight of her head on his chest.

When he finally manages to fall asleep, his dreams are haunted by big green eyes, a patch of dark, fuzzy hair and chubby, freckled cheeks.


	60. A Whole World Out There

**Shih Island**

**08:00 AM**

"I want you, Anne and Max to be his or her godparents."

The words leave her mouth all of a sudden, and Jack nearly lets his bucket fall into the well. Once he recovers, a warm smile plays on his lips and he raises an eyebrow at her.

"It's not like I want the child to be baptized and all that, I just want him or her to have these figures, while growing up. I feel they're important."

"Three people... That isn't too traditional, you know."

A short laugh escapes her lips and she shrugs, leaning against the well.

"And  _what_  is traditional about our family?"

"Touché, hummingbird." Reaching for his bucket and placing it on the edge of the well, he meets her eyes. His smile widens. "Of course we'll be the baby's godparents. But I didn't know you would even consider the idea-"

"I just want to make sure he or she will be safe,  _with family_ , should something ever happen to Charles and I." She explains, her eyes traveling through the campgrounds when she says that name.

_It's been two days._

He slept in their tent with her last night, but he made no move to touch her. He didn't even speak to her, but at least he was there. Jack told her about the whole " _pick a path_ " conversation -  _monologue_  - he had with her criminal, and she was just so relieved when she woke up and saw that the ship was still in the bay.

_He chose **them.**_

He chose to  _try_ , even though he's still too terrified to talk to her.

It's a start. It hurts, but it's a start.

"Well, look who's back now." Jack says bringing her back from her thoughts. Frowning, she follows his eyes. The corners of her lips twitch up when she sees a certain shady Russian emerging from the jungle.

He's quick to walk over to them.

"How's your back?" She asks, feeling a twinge of guilt. That ghastly image is still fresh in her mind, and she can't imagine how much it must have hurt.

He shrugs dismissively, stopping a few feet away from her. "There's still some pain but it's bearable. None of the wounds got infected, and the stitches should be gone in a week or so."

Eleanor nods at him, hoping he would be able to see all the gratitude shining in her eyes. Judging by the warm smile he gives her, he is.

His eyes drop to her stomach, and she knows what's on his mind before he asks.

"The baby is fine. Nothing happened."

He sighs in relief, and although Eleanor still finds his interest in her child very weird, she doesn't say anything.

A thought suddenly comes to her mind and she clears her throat, handing her still empty bucket to Jack before stepping closer to Vasyl.

"You saved both our lives. So, if you're still interested..." She trails off, unsure what to say.

But thankfully, he catches up.

She can feel Jack's watchful eyes on them as he lowers her bucket into the well. Vasyl smiles at her again, and to her utter surprise, she doesn't feel uncomfortable at all when one of his large hands settles on her stomach.

"But I don't think you'll be able to feel a thing at this early stage-"

"I feel  _life_." He interrupts her, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. Emotion fills his eyes, as if he was suddenly surprised with the most incredible gifts. "He or she is going to be the most beautiful child in this world."

She smiles softly at his words, fighting against the urge to caress her stomach too, and realizing she never did it. In the past, she also used to feel tempted from times to times, but  _something_  always held her back.

"Perhaps you could play the role of grandpa, from times to times."

She only realizes what she said when he meets her eyes hastily.

Mentally kicking herself, she swallows hard. "Are you offended?"

At first, Vasyl just shakes his head weakly. As if he was just caught off guard, and he's having some trouble finding his voice again.

"No.  _No_ , not at all, Pearl." He laughs briefly, only now removing his hand from her barely perceptible bump. "That would be a huge honor."

Relieved, she smirks at him. "Then it's settled. This child will have two grandfathers on my side... Well, three, if I count Gates... Yes, he'll probably want that. Anyway, there are none on Charles' side. The only possible person gave up that right months ago, when he tried to murder me in cold blood. So maybe... you could fill in that hole."

Vasyl nods immediately. His eyes are filled with joy, but she thinks she sees a hint of sorrow in those mysterious blue depths too.

It's intriguing, but she just lets it go.

"Believe me... There's nothing I want more."

* * *

_*** Trigger warning: Non-con, explicit violence & child abuse ahead. ***_

.

**Lughaya, Somalia**

**04:00 AM**

She's been studying his body language closely, memorizing each little detail of his routine.

It's been almost three days since they first arrived at Somalia, and Sarah is done waiting for a savior on a white horse. She wants to take her baby far, far away from this place. She's not sure whether it's like this in the whole country or not, but the two cities they've seen so far sent shudders down her spine.

She saw violence. People living in precarious situations, humans who looked more like walking skeletons.

Children, starving to death.

_The terrorist attacks._

Often, she hears gunshots. Explosions, screams. It makes her terrified, it makes Aiden wail in fear.

Their captor, well, he  _laughs_.

He's been keeping them in a small house -  _if the place can even be called a house_  - and using the night to his advantage. He leaves them alone for hours, going in search of people, of information. So far, he found nothing that could possibly lead him to Eleanor.

Sarah is actually grateful for that, but Low's anger only grows each time he comes back from an unsuccessful search.

The first time he left them alone, she immediately started looking for an escape route, only to find out there was an armed man standing guard right outside. She soon discovered that their captor was paying him in gold. The guard to their prison lives right across this narrow, filthy street, in a decaying house no better than this one. He always appears immediately when Low knocks on his door.

After all those hours of watching this monster closely, Sarah has noticed that the only time he relaxes and lets his guard down somewhat, is when he's leaving through the door.

She glances at Aiden, making sure he was safe in his car seat, just as Low reached for the doorknob.

Sarah can't remember when was the last time she moved this fast.

In a heartbeat, she crosses the room, her arms closing around his neck. He begins to fight immediately as she tries to cut off his airway, but she doesn't let go. Her right hand flies to his face, fingers searching for his good eye. Her ex-husband once taught her to always aim for weak spots.

But apparently, Low predicted this. His eyes are squeezed shut, and her heart sinks. Just as she lets out a cry of frustration, he throws his elbow back, hitting her right in the ribs. Her vision goes black for a moment, but she feels it as he grabs her arms hard. The commotion wakes Aiden up; he starts to cry in confusion and alarm while their captor throws Sarah to the floor. All the air leaves her lungs when she lands on her back. At least she didn't hit her head, somehow.

When she opens her eyes, Aiden is the first thing she sees. He's just a few feet away, fighting against his restraints and reaching out for her. Just as she's about to move closer, something blocks her view.

Her eyes go wide, and it just happens so fast.

Her son's scream of agony fills her ears before she can see the blood.

A gash on his right arm, nearly three inches long. Her own pain is completely forgotten and she's instantly back on her feet, lunging towards Low.

There is only one thought in her brain; to kill the monster who's just harmed her baby.

He grabs her fist in the air, before it can touch his face, then he's twisting both her arms behind her back. She fights all the while, trying to throw her head back, trying to stomp on his foot, trying to do  _anything_.

Pain explodes in her left thigh and she realizes he's just used the same knife to hurt her too. The same knife that slashed Aiden's arm-

_Aiden._

Not paying attention to her own pain, she looks over at her son. Tears are streaming down his red face as he screams at the top of his lungs, some blood trailing down his elbow and staining the fabric of the car seat. A choked sound leaves her throat and she tries to escape Low's death grip, to rush over to her baby, she needs to see how bad that wound is-

Her vision goes black when he slams her head against the nearest wall.

When Sarah comes back to her senses, she doesn't realize what's going on at first.

All she knows is that Aiden is still crying, and all of a sudden, it feels as if someone is tearing her apart.

She understands why, after two or three thrusts.

Her ex-husband may have beaten her a few times. He brainwashed her, he tortured her mind for years.

But he never, ever forced himself on her. He never stepped over that line. And she never thought she would one day have the misfortune of finding out how that felt.

The humiliation and suffering brought by all those years of abuse are nothing compared to hearing his grunts and groans, mixed with her son's cries.

Excruciating pain ripples through her body, she yells for help without even realizing it. But he soon punches her face, never stopping his brutal assault. Feebly, she pushes at his chest. She's just so weak, unable to fight.

_Shock, perhaps._

It feels as if there are a thousand knives stabbing every inch of her body as he flips her around harshly, stopping for a brief moment before resuming his violent pace.

Aching, ripping, burning, all at the same time.

The concrete scratches her face, and her eyes find Aiden again as she lies there on her stomach, unable to do anything except wait.

Wait until it was over.

Her son has never screamed so loud before, and she fears it will make their captor angrier, so she struggles to find her voice. Somehow, she musters up the strength to force a smile, although tears are soaking her face.

"It's okay, mommy is okay. Do you wanna sing a song?" The thrusts become even more violent and her facial features contort into a grimace for a moment. "The Peppa song? Mommy's okay, bubba. It'll be okay-"

She's being ripped open. She can  _feel_  it. There's wetness covering her inner thighs, and she's sure it's blood. All she wants is to keep reassuring Aiden, but it's too much. Squeezing her eyes shut, Sarah prays to whatever higher power that could be listening.

_Please, let it be over soon._

Even her baby's screams begin to sound distant. She swears she can hear her own heart, drumming in her chest as the world fades away.

_Please, let it be over soon._

She won't scream. She won't cry out. She can't make Aiden even more scared than already is.

_**Please,**  let it-_

When their captor groans out loudly, she's harshly brought back to reality.

She feels the urge to vomit as he empties himself inside her, but the relief when he pulls out numbs her disgust.

Trembling, she just lies there, waiting.

As soon as he's out the door, she gets on her hands and knees, hissing at the pain. Aiden is sobbing and coughing violently by now, and she's certain he'll throw up unless she gets him to calm down.

Her hands shake as she undoes the straps, chubby arms going around her neck immediately when she finally gathers her baby in her arms.

He starts to calm down, but her own tears break the dam once more. It feels like paradise; to be able to hold him again, after what she just went through.

The wound on his arm isn't too bad, much to her relief. It seems Low doesn't want anything to happen to him just yet, so he kept himself from inflicting too much damage.

He just wanted to cause some pain.

Aiden's blood is starting to clot already and she reaches for the diaper bag, once again grateful that she managed to bring it with them. After cleaning the wound as best as she could with baby wipes and ripping a piece of her shirt to wrap it around her son's arm, she leans back against the wall. Her voice shakes a little as she sings her baby boy's favorite lullaby, holding him to her chest.

They fall asleep like this, traumatized and hurt. The pain, the humiliation and the dried blood on her inner thighs is forgotten for this brief, stolen moment. All that matters is that they still have each other. And she will get her baby out of this hell, even if it's the _last thing_  she'll ever do. As she slips into unconsciousness, there is only one thought in her mind.

_Eleanor_. She needs to get out of here, and she needs to find Eleanor.

* * *

**Bavarian Alps**

**03:30 AM**

Thunder roars loudly outside and she jumps slightly, knocking on the door and wrapping her arms around herself again to fight off the cold.

Ridiculous; all those years have passed and when it comes to bad stroms like this one, she's still a little baby.

The door opens almost immediately, and her eyes widen a little.

_No shirt._

Well, she's definitely not complaining.

"Did something happen?"

His concerned tone is endearing, but she can't really ignore what that sleep ragged voice does to her.

Swallowing hard, she mentally urges her heart to slow down.

"Nightmare."

Frowning, Billy reaches for her arms. She doesn't fight when he pulls her closer. "About?"

"There was a man, everything was so dark and the ground was moving. One of his eyes looked really strange, as if it was blind. He seemed dangerous, and he told me not to talk. It was raining..." Abigail trails off, her eyes falling closed as she hides her face in his chest.

She fails to see his scowl.

"Moving? As if you were on a ship?"

"Sort of."

"Anything else? Do you remember what clothes he was wearing, what clothes  _you_  were wearing?"

At first, the question seems odd. But as she thinks about the nightmare...

"Actually... Now that you mention it, we were both wearing strange clothes. As if we were in the past, another century. I don't know."

She feels him nod, his arms tightening around her. When another loud thunder comes, she flinches, and he notices.

"Afraid of thunderstorms?"

Mentally kicking herself, she shrugs. "Since I was a child."

She was expecting him to laugh but he doesn't. Instead, he just strokes her back reassuringly.

It encourages her.

"Can I just stay with you?"

He stiffens for a moment, and she braces herself for a rejection. Then he sighs, and a brief chuckle leaves his lips.

"Sure you can. But don't tell Mary, or I will probably disappear ' _mysteriously_ ', and my body will be found in the woods weeks later."

His words make her laugh and she nods, pulling away and walking through the door with him. Only then she truly understands what she just did.

She's never shared a bed with anyone else other Ashley, her nanny or Eleanor.

She's never shared a bed with a man.

Anxiety tries to come, but she blocks it successfully.

At first, he offers to sleep on the floor, and she promptly says no. It's cold as usual, and she's the one who came to his room in the middle of the night.

Butterflies fill her stomach as they get under the thick, soft covers together. He asks if she wants him to wear a shirt and she surprises them both by saying no.

At first, she stalls. But her head soon finds a resting spot on his chest. The warmth of his skin seeps through the fabric of her long-sleeved nightgown when she places her arm over his abdomen.

She can feel the muscles too, and her cheeks burn.

It was scary, but now she couldn't be happier about her decision to come here. It feels like she's in a cocoon of safety, bliss and comfort, and decidedly, she  _loves_  it.

She loves the feeling of his arms holding her close, and they don't have to worry about Mary right now. They have until the morning to stay this close to each other, and it's like a blessing from the skies.

Just as she's about to fall asleep, he kisses her forehead tenderly.

"If that strange man comes again, I'll chase him away, alright? He  _can't_  hurt you."

A smile tugs at her lips and she nods, only half awake.

She has absolutely no idea just how serious he is about that. Little does she know, he's not talking about her bad dream.

True to his words, he stays awake, paying close attention to her breathing pattern. Ready to wake her up in case she started to get restless. But his attention also goes to the doors and the windows, from times to times.

Billy is not sure where that pig is today. But one thing's for certain, he's  _never_ going to touch this girl again.

* * *

**Phuket**

**10:00 PM**

_"Two days. Wait for us at the harbor. We will be sailing to the mainland at first light. There will be plenty of time to discuss our plans and strategies, and once night falls, we all head to the island. The attack will begin right away, so be prepared."_

Her firm voice is like a beautiful melody, the proof that she's alive.

Still, he can't help but think something's up.

"Understood."

There's an awkward silence, and just as she's about to bid him goodnight, he interrupts her.

"Are you okay?"

_"Yes. Why?"_

The answer comes too swiftly, Scott's "lessons" about how to read this woman echoing through his mind.

"Your voice sounds different."

_"I'm **fine.**  See you soon."_

Evasive. A hint of annoyance in her tone.

She ends the call without giving him a chance to respond, and he sighs heavily.

No, she's not okay, and he intends to find out what's bothering her  _soon_.

_If anyone has hurt her in any way-_

There's a knock on the door of his cabin, and his jaw clenches as the intruder comes in, permission be damned.

One look at his face, and Flint just knows he was eavesdropping.

"Can I ask you something?"

"No."

"Why does she mean so much to you now?" John begins, ignoring him completely and walking over to his desk. "I know you were good allies, and you kind of cared about her, but this is ridiculous. It's like she's actually your child, why-"

"Because she represents my second chance."

There's nothing but heavy silence for few seconds, then the older man rubs his forehead with a tired sigh.

He's not getting rid of this pest, might as well humor him.

"She kept me afloat, she gave me a  _purpose_. That baby was a slimmer of light among all the darkness, she allowed me to honor his memory. To be the person  _he_  would want me to be. Because of that, she means the world to me. And I couldn't possibly be prouder of the woman she became, this time around." The words come from his heart, and surprisingly, they simply keep flowing. "Every single day, as I watched from across the street... I would see her getting out of school, Scott was always there.  _Every_   _single day_ , I would see her hope fading away. Her face falling when she realized that once more, her birth father was nowhere to be seen."

How he hates that poor excuse of a man. If only he could kill that heartless idiot with his own bare hands...

"She didn't change." A hostile look comes to his face as he meets John's eyes. The con man is unfazed, shrugging and leaning against the edge of his desk. "She  _didn't_. She's still the same person to me, with her tyrant attitude and haughty demeanor. Thinking she's superior, for some twisted reason I will never understand."

"On the surface. When you look inside, when she lets you..." He trails off, unsure what to say. This conversation is getting too deep, too fast.

_He doesn't like it._

"If she was still the same person, right now she'd be in LA with her father and that bastard. She  _was_  given the choice, after all... She could be married to him again. She could even be bearing his offspring already."

"Lucky for her, she isn't."

This time, he can agree 100% with what John said.

That unwelcome silence comes back.

He's about to throw the con man out of his cabin when another question comes.

"Why did you leave?"

"What?"

"LA. Why did you leave? I know all about it, how you stayed there for seven years after Eleanor was born. Then you left, and when she was nine you went to check up on her again. Saw her at a park, was it? But after this meeting, you left for good. You kept your distance. Only seeing her in person again when she was 23 years old." He chuckles to himself, crossing his arms over his chest and staring at a random spot on the wall. "I can imagine it perfectly. You, on that fancy cruise ship of yours, watching her grow up through pictures. Scavenging information from afar, perhaps sending a spy or two to make sure she was okay. As technology spread, you probably looked her up on social media, once she was old enough for that. You kept track of her achievements on the trading company. You just  _knew_ , every single time she was involved in a scandal. All of this, from across the country."

Unsettling, to say the least.

It's almost as if he has the power to see the past.

"You could have afforded to buy plane tickets every weekend, I  _know_  money wasn't the issue. You could have built a relationship with her, since the early years..." With a half smirk, he meets Flint's eyes again. "That was  _exactly_  the issue, wasn't it? You were scared."

Heaving a sigh, he leans back on his chair, trying to relax.

And trying to ignore that strange feeling taking him over.

"It was a lot to take in. When I held her at the hospital, when I talked to her for the first time at that park... She showed so much strength, so much intelligence, and she was still just a child. I was so proud of her, those moments allowed me to know what it feels like to be a father... That feeling was so strong and  _perfect_. I wasn't expecting it to be. But nowadays, I cannot understand how a man can possibly give this up. Richard did it twice. He lost her,  _twice_. He's the most stupid fool in this world."

The corners of John's lips twitch up. Of course he notices his poor attempt at changing the subject.

They stay there for what feels like hours, con man leaning against the edge of the desk, just the beside the captain's chair.

This time, it's not an awkward silence.

It's almost comforting.

"Are you still scared? Maybe even ashamed? Because of how strongly you feel about-"

" _Scared_. Yes." Flint sighs heavily, fingers resting over his handgun on the middle of the desk.

His eyes hold the deepest anguish as he looks up at the younger man's face.

"But I know no shame."

This was probably the most sincere conversation they have shared in this new world up to now. It means a lot, to both of them.

It's uncharacteristic, unusual to say the least, but when John reaches for his hand, it just feels right.

Offering him a gentle smile, the con man squeezes his fingers reassuringly. The warmth of his skin contrasts with the coldness of the handgun, and surprisingly, he makes no move to break this moment.

It feels right.

_It feels like a dream._

* * *

**Shin Island**

**10:40 PM**

_"Jack was right."_

Staring at her own elegant handwriting, she hesitates for a moment. The pen in her hand feels heavier than it should be, and with a long sigh, she continues to write.

_"In less than a week, something started to show. Although no one else but me is able to notice it. I mentioned this to Anne this afternoon; the answer I got was a snort and a 'quit the weed, cunt'._

A smile tugs at her lips as she remembers the redhead's face. Her incredulous eyes dropping to her stomach for a moment before she gave her that answer.

She's starting to relax now.

_"But I know my own body. I feel it, the project of a bump. It's not half as scary as I thought it would be. Not anymore. I recall how much I dreaded this moment in the past. The moment when I would begin to show. When I would be unable to hide the baby's existence from him. To hide it from myself. This time around, it's almost... A joyful event."_

Biting her lower lip, she taps the pen against the side of her journal for a moment.

It's her old habit, and she's been keeping this one since she was 18.

But it was a surprise, even to her, when she decided to start keeping records of the pregnancy two weeks ago. She loves to look back on the beginnings of their relationship, so why not write down the beginnings of this  _crazy_  new adventure of theirs too?

It gives her a sense of  _control_.

_"The morning sickness is starting to subside. And my energy levels are going back to normal. I'm almost at the end of the first trimester, and I can't believe how fast this is going. I don't feel quite ready to have a newborn in my arms yet. But well... baby steps."_

Chuckling at her own bad pun, she shakes her head, taking a moment to stare at the word baby.

Her eyes glint.

_"Once we're in Phuket, Jack will try to arrange a doctor's appointment for me. So we can hear the heartbeat, at least. I have no idea how that is going to feel."_

Her eyes go to the entrance of the tent, her face falling a little.

_"Charles is still bathing in the ocean. He will_ _probably wait until I'm asleep to return. And even if I wait for him, he will lie down with his back to me, as usual, not saying a word... In the morning when I wake up, he will be gone. I just wish..."_

Tears burn in her eyes, and she swallows hard.

_"I wish he would just touch me. This distance is unsettling. I want to feel his hands on my stomach, more than anything. It feels awful to admit it, but... If he does that, I think I will feel as if the baby is safer. It's not a very logical thought, but I can't help it. I just feel alone, even though Jack and Anne stay near me the whole time. I still feel so alone."_

Starting to feel like a whiny bitch, Eleanor turns the page. When she begins to write again, it's about something entirely different.

Darkness comes to her eyes.

_"Lately, I have been thinking about Woodes a lot. More than I should. He haunts me even when I'm sleeping, and I can't stop thinking about his reaction when he finds out about this. We will be face to face eventually. He needs to be dealt with, or else we will never get to go home and live in peace. Will I be showing by then? Probably. It will be evident, and I can't even begin to imagine how angry he is going to get. I don't want to think about what he would be capable of doing. Nothing is off limits. Not when it comes to him. He will want to kill the baby, no matter what."_

Swallowing hard, she tries to keep her hands still. They began to tremble.

And it's  _not_  from fear.

_"If that bastard tries to get too close to my stomach, I will tear his eyes out with my own fingernails. I will kill him with my bare hands."_

She closes the journal harshly, jaw clenched hard.

What is this deep instinct? It's unlike anything she's ever felt before. She always felt protective of Abigail, of Madi, but this is  _different_.

It's raw, animalistic, primitive. It's so strong that it nearly scares her.

After returning the journal and the pen to her bag, she settles back on the bunk. Her eyes return to flap, but of course, there's no sign of him.

It's just her, just her and their child. Suddenly, that urge washes over her again. And this time, she can't fight against it. There's no one around to see, after all.

Her hands shake for a reason other than anger now, as she brings them to rest over her lower abdomen.

A choked gasp leaves her lips, tears filling her eyes. She can't help but laugh weakly, and then the words just start tumbling from her lips.

"You must be about the size of a lime right now. Or even smaller. How is it possible that a tiny little thing like you... can instill such fear into a strong, grown man who has fought endless battles... And faced endless dangers?"

Her fingers move experimentally, caressing her own skin, and she can't believe how good it feels to finally give in to that urge.

"I know you can't hear me. Hell, I know you probably can't even feel a thing yet. You don't even have a proper nervous system at this point. It's too early for me to be talking to you, but it gives me some peace of mind. And I  _need_  it."

* * *

His footsteps are uncharacteristically light as he makes his way to their shelter, still dripping wet from the ocean. If she's asleep, which she probably is, he doesn't want to wake her up.

Things are way too awkward between them already, he doesn't want to make it even worse-

_"...some peace of mind. And I **need**  it."_

He stops in his tracks, a frown coming to his face.

Who is she talking to, is it Jack?

He stays rooted in place beside the tent, listening to her words. When she continues, after a short pause, his blood runs cold.

She's  _not_  talking to Jack.

_"Your father is so scared. It's not that he doesn't want you... Deep down, I **know**  he does. But he's afraid of disappointing me.  **Us.**  Like his own father disappointed him."_

_Is she...?_

His world stops turning.

It's just so unbelievable, he wants to see this scene with his own eyes, so  _much_.

And that's exactly why he forces himself to walk away, back to the beach. His heart keeps beating wildly in his chest as he goes all the way to the small harbor.

Staring at his ship in the distance, he replays her words in his mind.

_Your father._

It's been hitting him constantly; when he thinks he's getting used to the idea, this violent wave comes again to rock his world.

_He's going to be a **father.**_

All the storms he's faced, all the batlles he fought... None of them can compare to this feeling.

He's going to be a father. His child is growing in her womb right now, and it's crazy.

He loves it so much. It's a piece of him, a piece of  _her_ , how could he possibly not love it?

Still, he just can't find the courage to-

"You know, when I first got here... It felt like a blessing from heaven."

Charles looks over his shoulder with a harsh expression on his face. But it fades away when he sees Vasyl, walking over to the edge of the pier.

As the Russian sits by his side, he tenses up for a brief second.

"Thought that if I spent enough time on an island, I'd end up forgetting that there's a  _whole world_  out there. But I was mistaken."

He frowns at those familiar words, his own voice echoing through his mind as he stares at Vasyl's face.

"I didn't forget any of it. I  _didn't_. Take it from a man who regrets his choices deeply. Once you lose your children, once you lose your loved ones, you can  _never_  get them back."

For some reason, Charles' mind travels to his uncle.

His heart tightens painfully.

"Closest thing I ever had to a father..." He trails off, regretting this already. But it's too late. "My uncle. Naomi's older brother. He was a wanted man, with more enemies than I can count. So when my mother died, he saw no other way. He traveled far away, and left me at an orphanage. I was two months old."

He fails to see the somber look on Vasyl's face. As if the Russian knows exactly who he's talking about.

"When I learned the truth, I tracked him down, through an old lover of mine. Davina's adoptive mother. I found out he was leading a large crew of Somali pirates. Months ago, we traveled to Africa. I wanted to see him. To hear it all from his mouth. At first, I actually thought it would work... Having a peaceful relationship with him. But he proved me wrong, when he tried to shoot Eleanor."

"Why would he do that?"

Charles stalls for a moment, looking for a plausible answer.

"He wanted me to rule that empire by his side. Wanted me to be his heir, some sort of prince. But I made it clear we weren't staying. My main priority was Davina, I wanted to bring her and Mary back to Nassau with us. Eleanor had a whole life there, and she would never leave that life behind for an uncertain future in Somalia. My uncle knew that, and he also knew I would follow her anywhere she went. Guess he didn't take that too well. So he tried to get rid of her. I jumped in front of the bullet just in time."

The deepest pride shines in Vasyl's eyes.

"You were ready to  _die_  for her."

"Would do it all over again, without thinking twice."

The Russian chuckles softly, amused, as if he could see something  _so clearly_... Something that Charles just couldn't see.

And he's quick to reveal what that was.

"Your father walked away from the woman he loved. And you... you jumped in front of a bullet to keep the woman you love safe. How can you think you're like him? He left Davina. You accepted her into your life, and I have the feeling you would die for her too. Charles, all I can see... Is you picking up the mess your father has left, fixing the destruction he has caused. Why stop  _now_? You succeeded with Davina. I'm sure it was scary, but you picked up the pieces of her broken little heart, and you fixed her. You proved you're a  _better man_ , when you risked your life to save Eleanor's... Then why is it so hard to acknowledge this perfect little life you're creating together?"

His tears threaten to escape as he looks up at the sky, easily finding their star. A heavy, broken sigh leaves his lips when Vasyl brings a reassuring hand to his shoulder.

"My boy, you're not your father...  _yet_. Do not become him... There's still  _time_  to turn this situation around."

* * *

"You want to go through it again?"

He shakes his head, and Esteban smirks from across the desk.

"Figured. That ship of yours will be the perfect tool to block the strait. It is their only way out of the island. You leave tomorrow afternoon. How much time, do you think, until you get to your destination?"

He shrugs, shifting slightly on the uncomfortable chair.

"Depends on the wind. Maybe two or three hours."

Esteban nods at that, then he reaches to open a drawer.

Teach's eyes narrow as he pulls out a taser, but he's quick to reassure him.

"Take it in case Javier has a fit. He knows he has to behave when he sees it. But if things get too bad, don't be afraid to use it."

He analyzes the object for a moment, before accepting it with a curt nod.

Esteban's eyes hold a sadistic, eager glint to them.

"They are supposed to visit the mainland in a couple of days. From the moment you get there, let them know they are  _not_  going anywhere. Feel free to take as much food and water as you need. If you need any other supplies, let me know and I will procure them for you. Now go. Get some sleep for the big day."

His jaw clenches just slightly, and he gets to his feet.

Just as he's reaching for the doorknob, Esteban's voice stops him.

"Mi socio?"

He looks at the Spaniard over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow.

Esteban smirks, locking his fingers on the surface of the desk.

"Give them hell."

* * *

_Mi socio: My partner._

* * *

She's half asleep, with her back turned to the entrance of the tent, when his presence brings her back to full awareness. Eyes fixed on the log wall, she grasps a handful of the sheets.

_He's here._

It makes her feel so serene, but she also braces herself for the cold bath it will be when he lies down, keeping his distance.

When he sits on the edge of the bunk, she gives in, stealing a glance at him.

A heavy sigh leaves his lips. Then he's lying down and gathering her in arms.

At first, she's frozen, scowling in the dark. But when one of his hands settle on her lower abdomen, a huge smile breaks out on her face.

Her heart is drumming, she's sure his is too. They definitely don't know how to do this, but it feels so right. Her back pressed to his front, one of his arms making its way under her neck to serve as a pillow.

When his thumb begins to move in circles, hesitantly at first, she finally sheds a tear.

She missed him so much.

And now he's here, holding her again, stroking her stomach, silently accepting their child,  _finally_.

All her previous fears fly away. She knows it will be okay, there's no way Woodes will be able to harm their little baby, nothing will happen to their tiny treasure.

Her tired eyes fall closed again, and she brings her hand to rest over his on her stomach, locking their fingers together. It may be a little scary, but she basks in this peace. The peace of going to sleep, just the three of them. The man she loves holding her safely and the little life they have created together, growing inside her with each passing minute, slowly but surely. So  _protected_  in her womb.

His hand feels so warm, and the gentle caresses of his thumb... It feels so damn good.

_Soothing. **Reassuring.**_

Now she feels like everything will be just fine.

_**Nothing**  can possibly threaten their peace._


	61. Sails

**Shih Island**

**07:30 AM**

When she opens her eyes in the morning, Eleanor immediately realizes she's alone again.

His warmth is gone, his touch on her stomach is only a memory now.

A frown comes to her face. Their little paradise feels like a distant dream... Will he go back to ignoring her, to ignoring the baby?

Just as she's sitting up on the bunk, eager to go in search of him, the flap is pulled aside. She freezes when he comes in, holding a bag of chips. He stops too, and for a moment they just look at each other in tense silence.

Letting out the breath she wasn't aware she had been holding, she watches as he finally walks closer, offering her the snacks.

"Jack said you've been craving salty stuff." He says without looking at her, his tone somewhat awkward.

She doesn't think she ever heard his voice sound like this before.

Her own throat feels dry as she accepts the bag from his hand.

"Thank you."

He has something to say, she knows he does, but she doesn't want to pressure him. So she doesn't say a word.

Her stomach grumbles as she begins to eat, and this is still a little unsettling. This intense hunger is just something so new, so surprising to her.

"Last night, I felt..."

Her heart skips a beat. She looks at him, but his eyes are lowered to the dirt ground and he's keeping his distance, sitting at the foot of the bunk.

"It felt... different. A little."

It's adorable; the way he struggles with the words. She would have smiled, if she wasn't so nervous.

When he finally looks at her face again, it's as if the world stops turning for a moment.

"It felt different because it  _is_ different." Munching on the chips, Eleanor stalls, eyes locked with his. A part of her insists she should just keep her mouth shut, but...

"Would you like to...  _see_?"

He tenses up, scowling at her stomach, and she immediately regrets her words.

_She's such an idiot, he's barely starting to accept this new reality and she's already testing his limits-_

Her heart flutters when he nods slightly. It's barely perceptible, and for a moment she thinks this is a dream.

Setting the bag of chips aside, she gets to her feet. Her hands sweat a little as she lifts the hem of her shirt, stepping closer to him. His eyes narrow, then they're filled with something she's simply unable to decode.

"It's such a small change, others probably can't notice it. But you see, there's-"

"I see it."

There's definitely  _something_  poking out just above the midpoint of her pelvis, and she has the feeling it will be way more evident soon. Jack did warn her that the baby will double in size during the next three weeks.

He said the risk of miscarriage will be practically nonexistent after that, and the huge growth spurt will be like a graduation of sorts. If everything goes well, the baby will be definitely out of danger.

It still scares her a little; everything she went through with the snake bite. She's still worried she'll wake up bleeding one morning, in pain, losing their child...

"How much longer until we can see..." Charles trails off, gesturing with his hands. His eyes never leave her stomach.

"Movement? I'm not sure... Maybe a couple of months or so."

He nods, and she just stands there as the seconds drag by.

More than once, she sees it. His fingers tightening on his knee, as if it's taking him a huge amount of self-control not to reach out for her stomach, to caress it again.

It would probably be too scary, in the light of day.

"Are we  _really_  not going to talk about it?"

Sighing impatiently, he meets her eyes.

"We  _are_  talking about it."

"You know what I mean. Last night-"

"Listen, this is... new. If you think I'll open my heart and tell you about my emotions, you're so fucking mistaken."

His harsh tone and words hurt a little.

Lowering her shirt again and hiding her stomach from his view, she carefully settles back on the bunk.

"How do you feel?"

The concern in his voice is like a remedy to the wound his little outburst caused. Shrugging, Eleanor clears her throat.

"There's some heartburn. But it's normal."

"I talked to Anne. Your lessons are suspended for now."

The corners of her lips twitch up. "We haven't had any lessons since the day she found out about the baby, actually. The reports she's been giving you for the past three weeks are all fake, made up."

He raises an eyebrow at that, and at first glance, anyone would think he was angry. But she detects the humor in his eyes.

"You  _really_  stole my crew right from under my nose, didn't you? When exactly did that happen?"

With a smile on her face, she moves a little closer to him, testing the waters.

"Are you still angry?"

" _Yes_. But not about... what happened. I'm angry because you kept this from me. For what, almost eight weeks? Not only that, you  _lied_  to me." Her smile falls and she keeps his stare, guilt gnawing at her heart. "I  _deserved_  to know, Eleanor."

All she can do is nod in agreement.

"I know. I know, and I regret taking so long... But considering your reactions, every time the subject came up... You can understand why I found it hard to approach you, to break the news..."

"So you decided to lie to me, where did you think that was going to get you? You  _knew_  it would only make things even worse."

She scowls, shaking her head. Even before the words leave her mouth, she's already ashamed of them.

"I was just  _scared_."

Has eyes soften. He reaches for her hand, giving it a soft, reassuring squeeze.

After all the fear and the hard times she's face alone, for all those weeks... This is like a  _crutch_. And right now, she regrets her choice of lying to him, so deeply. It would have been better if he knew, right from the start. Things would have been easier.

But all that matters is that they're working things out now. This moment is perfect.

There's still a very important experience she wants -  _needs_  - to share with him.

"Jack will arrange a doctor's appointment for me. We'll probably get to hear the heartbeat for the first time... Would you like to come with us?"

She was half expecting him to leave.

The possibility seems to be a little too much for him and he tenses up again.

But his hand never lets go of hers.

"I don't know."

Her stomach starts to demand some more food and her free hand reaches for the chips. She goes back to eating, watching his face closely as he stares down at the dirt ground.

He's just so lost.  _Him_ , the man who's fought all those battles, the man who severed her enemy's head for her, who was buried alive and literally dug his way out of his grave. Who took over a fort and  _sneered_  at her soon after.

Now he's all awkward, unsure how to act, scared.

All because of a tiny, unborn baby that measures just over 1 1/2 inches long.

_After all the dangers he's faced..._

She can't help but chuckle softly, shaking her head. He frowns at the reaction, but lets it go.

"What does it look like, right now? More like an alien than a human being, right?"

Her amusement fades away and she gives him a hard look.

"Watch your words. Actually, Jack said it already looks more human than we can imagine at this point."

He's clearly trying to picture it in his mind, and she makes a decision.

Even if he doesn't go with them to the doctor's appointment, she will ask for pictures of the ultrasound scan and leave them on his pillow. Because she probably won't be brave enough to actually show them to him.

Still, he deserves to see.

"Idelle is going  _crazy_  back home... She even bought a bouncer already. Can you believe it?"

"You told her?"

"Max did. But it's just the two of them and Scott for now. No one else from the...  _family_... knows."

He nods. His eyes are still glued to the ground, and the calculating look on his face...

She  _knows_  that look, far too well.

There's something on his mind, torturing him, and he's looking for a solution to this problem...  _whatever_  it is.

His eyes are somber, so she knows it's something big.

"So... now what?" She prods, impatient for an answer.

Heaving a sigh, Charles straightens up and squeezes her hand again.

This time, it feels more like a  _protective_  gesture, rather than an attempt at reassuring her.

"I don't know about you... But since the moment you told me about this pregnancy... I couldn't stop thinking about a certain pig we should've gutted a  _long time_  ago."

Her heart skips a beat, that raw, unfamiliar protective instinct washing over her again.

"A child of ours will never be safe, not while he's free or alive."

She nods in agreement, setting the now empty bag aside and placing her other hand on top of his.

"I agree he needs to be dealt with, before the baby's birth. And I know you want to get rid of him permanently... Trust me, all I want is to kill him with my own hands too. But you know he has an influential family back in the USA. Murdering him is too risky, we would never know peace again... Raising a child already seems like a tough task to me, I can't imagine doing it and living on the run at the same time."

The way he looks at her...

_It makes her heart sink._

"Then I will be the  _only_  one with a target on my back."

"Charles-"

"His blood will be on  _my_  hands. You and the kid stay home, and I'll find a way to see the two of you once every two months at least. The rest of the time, I stay on the run. It's been like this for so long, I can live like that again-"

"But  _I_   _can't_."

Her fierce interruption stuns him into silence. Tears burn in her eyes as she swallows hard, shaking her head.

"I can't. Our child can't.  _Davina_  can't. We all need you there with us, and fuck, I  _refuse_  to let that bastard ruin my life again. I will  _not_  be forced away from you because of him. I  _refuse_  to have that. To live like that. I know how painful it was to grow up without my father, you know too, the last thing I want is to put our child through that as well. Besides..." She hesitates, torn between letting it out or keeping her mouth shut. It might hurt him, what she's about to say, but she's unable to hold back. "... I would live in fear too, every time you left. Never knowing whether you would return to us, or let your fear get the best of you and follow in Lorenzo's footsteps."

His jaw clenches at the mere mention of that name. She could be mistaken, but his hatred for his faceless father seems to have doubled after he learned about the pregnancy.

"I'm not willing to lose you. To lose my sister, Anne and Jack. So I'm not going anywhere. For now, I'm coping. But I know the kid won't stay in there forever." He heaves a sigh, shaking his head. "I just need  _time_ , Eleanor."

His words are reassuring, and even though they still have so many problems to take care of before the baby's birth, a smile plays on her lips

"Well, you have six months or so."

He scoffs softly, averting his eyes.

She doesn't fail to see the faint hint of amusement, perhaps even  _affection_ , in those beautiful blue depths.

Her smile soon fades away.

Now that she has this emotional crutch, everything is coming back.

He may doubt himself, doubt his parenting skills, and even though she's been keeping it together fairly well for the past few weeks, God knows she's still just as scared as he is.

Her throat suddenly feels dry and she swallows hard, both her hands squeezing his tightly.

_Almost as if she was in labor already._

"I'm scared too... I'm terrified." The last word comes out as a broken whisper, and he immediately looks at her face again. Feeling the burn of tears in her eyes, she shakes her head. "Charles, I'm  _terrified_ -"

He brings an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him. Her face soon finds its favorite hiding spot in the crook of his neck. One of her hands lets go of his, her fingers tangling in his hair.

"What scares you the most? Childbirth?"

"The whole thing... I just don't know if I can-"

"You  _can_. And I promise we're in this  _together_. No matter what."

A shuddering breath leaves her lips. She can't believe how much it helps; having his support. She feels  _stronger_. More capable.

As if they're just one person in this moment, their strength combining.

A tear rolls down her left cheek, but it's born from relief rather than sadness or fear. They hold each other for a couple of minutes, in peaceful silence... until it's broken by her stomach growling.

She can't believe it when he lets out a soft chuckle. As he pulls away from her, there's something in his eyes. Something that resembles the look of adoration he so often gives her.

" _Someone_  must be hungry this morning."

"It's probably expressing his or her displeasure at the lack of red meat in my diet. It  _is_  your child, after all."

"We can take care of that tomorrow."

She nods, watching as he got up and offered her his hand. The corners of her lips twitch up and she accepts it, letting him help her to her feet too.

As if she already had a bulging, 38 week pregnant belly.

Their fingers remain locked together as they make their way out of their tent. She sees Anne by the campfire, sharpening one of her blades for the big event tomorrow, and the redhead looks up at them as they make their way to the beach.

Her eyes glint, a look of approval coming to her face as she smiled softly.

Eleanor returns the smile, and her stomach growls again as she settles on the sand, beneath the shadow of the largest palm tree.

"I'll get you some fruit for now. Then I'll go spear some fish, so you don't have to wait until lunch for a more substantial meal."

He doesn't look at her before walking away, but her heart feels so warm.

He's so  _caring_  already. Even if he's terrified... He did react in the  _worst_  way possible at first, he did break her heart, but now he's  _trying_. And she's already noticed it; his protective instincts over her became so much stronger. She didn't even think it was  _possible_.

A soft breeze blows on her hair, and she smiles wide when he comes back with a basket full of mangoes and bananas. There's no way she'll be able to eat all that, and she can't get over how adorable his ignorance is. He also has a coconut and she watches as he breaks it open, offering it to her.

Her eyes never leave his as she takes a drink, and then the words are just tumbling from her lips.

"The baby. I'm just so happy it's  _yours_ , not his... Not his. Not this time. It makes me so  _happy_."

His eyes light up, a proud look coming to his face.

His mumbled words just improve her mood even further.

"That makes it two of us."

* * *

Her smile widens as she watches them.

She  _knew_   _it_ , deep down, she  _knew_  that Charles wouldn't disappoint them.

But when things exploded, she did get scared.

The thought of parting ways with that asshole again was too painful for her, their bond is so strong this time, and Anne doesn't want to think about what it would have been like. Living without him. She would have felt so lost without her mentor, her brother. The only one who understands her deepest, wilder, most primitive instincts.

It would have been so tough; to watch him become the kind of man she despises the most. A bastard who hurts his loved ones, who  _abandons_.

_Who destroys._

It's soothing to see them like this now,  _together_ , smiling, making those lovey dovey faces that cause her stomach to churn.

_Everything will be okay._

Chucking to herself, she gets to her feet, flipping the sharp blade in her hand carelessly as she made her way back to the tent.

Seeing these two idiots reconcile... it gave her some inspiration and  _courage_.

Their little niece or nephew, their little bean, is already rocking their worlds, long before it's born. Stirring up some deeply buried emotions...

_And raising some issues._

She can't ignore it anymore, the way Jack's been acting. Ever since his outburst at the beach, when they were faced with the scary possibility of losing both Eleanor and their unborn godchild, things between them have been unstable.

He's always goofed around, bringing the "children" subject up in a playful manner. After so many times he laughed with Max about a little kid with red hair and brown eyes, she warned Anne.

She warned her that sooner or later, this was going to get serious and explode. The redhead always shrugged it off, saying it was nothing.

_She was so damn **wrong.**_

The amount of pain, of anguish... The amount of desperation she saw in his eyes as he finally told her about that hole in his soul... She had no idea he felt like that.

But then again, he has a certain history of bottling his emotions up, ignoring his feelings, just to make her happy.

Sighing heavily, she finally walks in through the flap.

The corners of her lips curve into the ghost of a smile.

He's there in the hammock, all focused, reading one of his medical books. The obstetric one. He's been refreshing his memory, rereading it, studying the contents of every single page, in order to be more helpful during this part of Eleanor's pregnancy.

He knows he's the closest thing they have to a doctor right now, and of course, he took this responsibility very,  _very_  seriously.

_She loves this idiot so damn **much.**_

All he gives her is a glance, before focusing back on the book.

They haven't been fighting. There's been no conflict between them, they're just a little bit distant.

Things have been  _awkward_ , since that afternoon at the beach.

She makes her way to the hammock, unceremoniously settling on it too and bringing her legs up on his lap. Her eyes remain glued to his profile as he uses one of his hands to massage her ankles.

She knows him, she knows he's just pretending to read at this point. He wants to say something, but he's probably trying to come up with the best words.

She decides to just make things easier for him.

"What you said, when we thought she was gonna die..."

Immediately, he lowers the book and meets her eyes. Sure enough, the words he's been wanting to say for the past few days leave his mouth at once.

"About that. I'm so sorry."

Anne tries hard not to chuckle or smile.

She knew exactly this would happen, she knew he was just waiting, eagerly, for her to bring up the subject.

"It's not your fault, if you don't want that... It's really alright. I feel  _awful_  for that outburst, for rubbing that in your face, I had no right to do that, and I'm sorry. I was under a lot of stress at the time, but that is  _no_  excuse for such a behavior. It will  _never_  happen again. I'd have to be a real bastard, to complain about what you choose to do with  _your_  body."

She waits patiently until his speech is over, knowing he just needed to let all of that out.

And now that they're talking about it, she also feels like venting about something.

"It scares the shit outta me." She begins, examining the tip of her blade closely. "Not exactly the... 'being a mum' thing, but the whole process before that. Somehow... I know  _exactly_  what it feels like. Carrying a kid... Giving birth. I canna explain it, but I just  _know_. And it scares me to  _death_."

He shifts slightly, massaging her ankles with both his hands now. His eyes are fixed on the flap as he thinks about something.

"Do you think... Do you think there's any chance we had a child? During that part of our past we can't remember?"

She shrugs at his question, unsure what to say.

The truth is that, deep down, they  _both_  know it happened. They  _both_  know they had a baby, at some point in time.

It's been haunting them for quite a while now.

"I've been thinking... Something really awful must have happened. For all of us to repress our memories like this. You, me, Max, Idelle, even Featherstone. None of us can remember." Jack reflects, trying to wrack his brain for answers, for what's probably the 1000th time.

_This week alone._

"We all repressed those memories... Which means something  _bad_  must have happened, something that affected all of us."

She sighs heavily, letting her head drop to the hammock. Staring up at the blue canvas ceiling, Anne taps her short fingernails against the blade as best as she can. "It'll all come back. Sooner or later. We'll find out what happened to us."

With a nod of agreement, Jack pats her ankle affectionately.

"Well, somebody  _has_  to be the key to our locked away past."

She snorts. But deep down, she knows that the truth is just as annoying as that. Sadly, they depend on someone else, it's their biggest chance of finding out what happened.

" _Somebody_. Yeah."

* * *

**Bavarian Alps**

**10:00 PM**

_"...what I'm asking is... Considering Davina's abandonment issues, and her needy personality... How badly do you think she would react to a newborn in the family?"_

Immediately, Mary chokes on her coffee.

Setting the mug on the table, she coughs a few times, trying to breathe.

_"Mary?"_

She needs to hit her own back, but then she finally recovers enough to speak.

Still, her voice comes out a little strained.

"Eleanor, are you- Are you saying what I  _think_  you're saying?"

_"If you think there's an 11 week fetus developing in my womb as we speak, then yes."_

She covers her mouth with one hand, though a joyful laugh leaves her lips anyway.

"Oh my God... Oh, my  _God_! This is so -  _How_  did this happen?"

_"I really like you a lot and all that, but I'm afraid this is personal, Mary."_

Rolling her eyes, the former criminal leans back on her chair. "Ah-ha,  _please_. I know exactly what you were, um,  _feeling_  when all of this began. I know  _exactly_  what you saw, and how... oh, how  _deliciously dreamy_... the whole experience was, so spare me this talk."

Her remark is answered with a chuckle of amusement, and she smiles warmly. She's still so grateful that their relationship turned out like this. So grateful that they're able to talk about Charles, including her past as his lover and his  _wonderful skills_ , without any jealousy from either of them.

They're both mature and comfortable with themselves after all, and in fact, they both joke about the subject constantly.

They have a wonderful relationship. Which is a good thing, considering that Eleanor is now an important part of Davina's life too.

_"In truth... I'm not sure. I stopped taking the pills, when he got shot. Then I started again, but shortly after we got to the island, I ran out of them. After that, I decided to stop altogether, Charles was very worried about the nasty side effects to my health. We were relying on withdrawal, but I confess we were... careless. I wasn't supposed to be fertile at the time, though."_

Mary bursts out laughing, perfectly able to picture Eleanor's eye roll as if she was right across the table.

"Gosh, 'Le... I'm sorry, but I couldn't help it. You should know the calendar can lie to you, Sunshine. Especially after you stop taking those wicked hormone bombs."

She uses the nicknames and the chitty-chatty girlfriend tone on purpose, knowing how much that pisses the blonde off.

There's a heavy sigh from the other side of the line, letting her know she was successful.

_"Yes, well... It **definitely**  lied to me."_

"You didn't consider the idea of... You know,  _terminating_  this?"

_"At first, but then I just couldn't."_

Her eyes soften, and Mary just wishes she could squeeze the other woman's hand right now. "Jokes aside, we're all here for you. I promise to help you with this baby and to spoil him or her as much as I possibly can, until you hate me to death. As for Davina, I  _won't_  lie. It will be tough. She will be the typical big sister, jealous as hell at first, and feeling as if she's been replaced... But then, like the typical big sister, she will be falling head over heels in love with the newborn, and we'll have some trouble... She will never want to leave this baby's side."

Mary laughs with her, gulping down the rest of her coffee. "The key will be in the attention we give her after the baby is born. We'll need to double our efforts, to make her feel extra loved. Buy her gifts and spoil her sick. So we can make her understand she's not being replaced. And I'm sure you know Charles will be in the center of it all. He should probably spend extra time with her, especially when the last few weeks come. I hope you won't mind, being heavily pregnant by then-"

_"Of course I won't. Don't worry."_

"We should start letting her adapt to the idea as soon as possible. In fact-" She gets to her feet, rushing out of the kitchen and into the fireplace room where her adoptive daughter was playing with her miniature pirate ships and soldiers.

"Sweet angel, can you stop for a moment and give mommy a minute of your time?" She asks, just as the " _sweet angel_ " is in the process of smacking a British soldier with one of the ships ferociously.

She's never been a Barbie doll fan anyway.

Promptly, the little girl jumps to her feet, joining her mother on the couch. Ignoring Eleanor's protests on the other side of the line, Mary smiles at her.

"Guess what? There's a baby in Eleanor's tummy!"

Her enthusiasm doesn't help matters, just as she suspected, and Davina crinkles her nose.

"Why?"

" _Because_. I promise I will explain how it got there in a year or so."

"But the baby will stay there, right?"

_"Thank you very much, Mary. I'll take it from here."_

She smirks wickedly, thinking of one last way to torment her friend.

"No problem. Oh, by the way... Once we're all reunited, you should probably use this pregnancy as a tool to  _warn_  our little Abigail."

_"What exactly do you mean-"_

"Bye bye, blondie."

* * *

**Shih Island**

**03:00 PM**

_"'Le? Mama said..."_

She sighs, her concerns about what Mary said before handing the phone to Davina vanishing from her mind.

The little girl sounds worried, almost scared.

And  _sad_.

"She was telling the truth, sweetie."

_"The baby will stay in your tummy, right?"_

"For a while, yes... But it will have to come out sooner or later."

_"How?"_

She grimaces at the question, sitting down near the edge of the cliff and praying that phone signal will not leave her hanging in the middle of this important conversation.

"I prefer  _not_  to think about that for now." She answers truthfully, shaking her head and staring at the ocean below.

_"I **don't**  want it to come out. Babies cry, and they need grown-ups to hold them all the time and, and..."_ She lets out a sob, and Eleanor's eyes fall closed. It's a if someone is piercing her heart with a spear, all she wants is to hug Davina so tightly.  _"...and Charlie already has to hold **me.** "_

A lump forms in her throat and she swallows hard, traveling back in time to her own tough childhood. In truth, she knows  _exactly_  what Davina is feeling right now.

She has a few faint memories from when she was four years old and Agatha got pregnant. She remembers what she felt, the fear that Scott would just abandon her once the baby was born.

And she also remembers what if felt like to see Madi for the first time, through the nursery window while her father figure held her safely... just as he  _always_  had.

Nothing changed, absolutely  _nothing_ , and she needs to make Davina understand that it will be the same way with her and "Charlie".

"He will  _always_  have time to hold you, sweetie. Even when you get too big and heavy to be carried, there will always be room for you in his arms and his heart... Even if we have a  _thousand_  babies. This is a promise, okay? Have I ever lied to you?"

There's a quiet sniffling sound from the other side of the line, and just in time, two figures emerge from the jungle.

"Charlie is here with Vasyl, little love. Would you like to talk to him?"

_"Who's Vasyl?"_  She asks, her voice strained. Eleanor is sure she's crying.

"A very special man, who saved both me and the baby from death recently. He's just as cool as Charlie, let me tell you."

Davina gasps at that revelation and she's satisfied when her voice comes out a little bit happier.  _"I want to talk to Vasyl!"_

Chuckling, she gets to her feet and offers her phone to the Russian, just as the men reach her by the edge of the cliff.

"It seems Davina wants to meet our hero."

It's very strange, what happens next.

His eyes go wide and he stutters. There's an odd look on his face. Something that resembles fear.

"I'm  _no_  hero, Pearl. And I'm terrible with children her age. But do send her my love, please. Excuse me."

He's gone from the hill in just a few short seconds. She shares a look with Charles, both finding his behavior strange. But they decide to just let it go.

For the next twenty minutes, Charles tries to reassure Davina that nothing about their relationship will change, once the baby comes.

They're not sure if he succeeds.

* * *

**Lughaya, Somalia**

**11:00 AM**

Their captor has been gone for eight hours now, and for the 20th time, Sarah catches herself wishing that he's dead.

She doesn't feel bad in the slightest for that, but the truth is that they would have problems anyway. If Low doesn't come back, God only knows what his guard dog will do to them. She does have some jewelry... Perhaps she could bargain for their freedom?

Right now, she's happy for this break, this time alone she's cherishing with Aiden.

_Today's an important occasion, after all._

"I'm sorry we have no candle or a big, pretty cake this time, baby. I hope this will do." She says, grabbing the muffin from the diaper bag and unwrapping it.

Today is the 10th mensiversary of Aiden's birth, and every month, she celebrates the occasion with a cake, candles and a song.

Woodes used to think it was too much, he said it was a stupid habit, but she just treasures her baby boy's existence so much... She never thought she'd be able to have a child of her own, so nothing is too much for her son. No amount of celebration will ever be enough.

Mindful of his injured arm, Sarah sets him on her lap, sitting cross legged in front of the muffin. She sings the usual song, laughing when Aiden shrieks and claps his hands along with her.

For a moment, it's almost as if they're back home.

Once the song is over, she uses her own hands to break the muffin in half, handing the slightly bigger part to her son. She would have no problem letting him eat all of it, but he's still so young for sugar, so she tries to avoid making him addicted to it.

Even with the other cakes, all she would let him have was a tiny piece or some frosting. In truth, most of the cakes went to the poor kids that came ring her doorbell, asking for food for them and their families.

She feels bad, thinking about how they probably went to her house today, eager for their monthly treat... Only to find out she was gone.

They probably felt abandoned, and she swallows the lump in her throat.

Aiden shrieks again, bringing her back to reality. He reaches for the muffin wrapping with his good arm, then throws it away from them.

Sarah has a disapproving frown as he looks up at her face.

"Now, that's not nice. What if he comes back, you know he hates it when we leave our trash on the ground like this."

Her boy is so smart. He knows she didn't like what he just did. A pout comes to his face.

And then he leaves her speechless.

He had already learned how to stand up on his own a month ago. But when his little legs move, carrying him all the way over to the wrapping, her jaw drops.

Frozen, she watches as he stumbles, ending up on all fours on the way back, but soon rising again and walking all the way over to her.

Her tears are flowing as she opens her arms, laughing in happiness and awe when he throws himself back on her lap.

Her baby just  _walked_  for the first time.

He only fell once.

_She has a walker._

Hugging him tightly, Sarah kisses his soft hair over and over again.

"I'm so proud of you, bunny!" She exclaims, Aiden giggles at her kisses and her joy.

She keeps crying; tears of  _hope_  this time.

They will make it. She  _knows_. One way or another, with or without Eleanor's aid, she will get her boy to safety.

_She just will._

* * *

**Shih Island**

**05:00 PM**

That huge smile refuses to leave her face as Eleanor packs her stuff. She's just so excited that this life will be coming to an end. It was nice to live in the wilderness for a while, but now she just misses hot showers, a restroom just for her and Charles, the wonderful privacy that only a locked door can bring...

She misses Wi-Fi. She misses phone signal all the time, she misses her tavern, her own island, and most of all, her  _family_.

Punching the strange mattress of their bunk, she scoffs. Really, she never found out what's inside it.

"I'm so ready to go back to our cabin. This thing is so damn uncomfortable. I just want _our bed_  so fucking much."

His soft chuckle makes goosebumps rise all over her arms. She's suddenly eager for the night to come, so they can finally share some intimacy again.

Tomorrow morning, before they leave to Phuket with the ship, their belongings will all be transferred to their respective cabins already. So they will waste no time when they come back to the island by nightfall, with Flint and his men.

After that, hopefully there will be no setbacks. Hopefully, Shih's plan will work to perfection.

Charles has already promised they will set sail as soon as he makes it back to the campgrounds with the others, victorious.

He also promised he will be bringing two survivors from their vicious attack to the estate.

_Javier and Esteban._

The latter will be Shih's but Javier will be brought to the ship.

Eleanor will be his judge. And once they're done with him, his body will be tossed in the ocean. A cruel smirk tugs at her lips, just as someone comes into their tent.

"Here, by dear. For the baby."

She turns around with a questioning look on her face. Her mouth parts as she sees it.

It's a little cap, made from soft fabric, she can't identify it.

_Blue as the ocean itself._

Her heart flutters as she accepts the gift from Madame Shih, completely aware of how Charles was watching the scene awkwardly.

Unsure how to react or what to say, she smiles warmly at the Asian, holding the little cap closer to her heart.

Their moment is broken when Virgil pulls the flap aside, an urgent look on his face.

"Madame, quick. There's a sailboat, made entirely of wood, making her way around the Island. She's huge, and she's coming here. I think she's going to block the strait."

For the first time ever, she sees a confused look on Shih's face.

"A sailboat?"

"He said we can see it from the hill." Jack explains, appearing at her former bodyguard's side, and she's immediately leaving the tent with Charles.

"Do you think..." He trails off, making his way over to the hill with his queen and his accomplices, and Eleanor shakes her head.

"No. The only thing on the Eurydice that's made of wood is the floor, it  _can't_  be him."

"Then who-?"

"It's a square rigger, Ma'am." Virgil informs, catching up to them as they begin their way up to the top of the hill, a spyglass in his hands.

Jack stops in his tracks, a suspicious look filling his eyes.

"Oh, _hell no_..."

They don't stop walking, so he's soon forced to follow.

Once all five of them are standing by the edge of the cliff, they see it. A ship in the distance, coming straight at them.

Charles holds out his hand and Virgil is quick to place the spyglass in it.

Tense silence drags out, until he confirms the former bodyguard's info.

"Sails."

Eleanor's heart is drumming in her chest, a hostile look coming to her face.

" _Whose_  sails?" She inquiries, this bad feeling taking her over.

Her criminal lowers the spyglass, glancing at her with a serious, somber look.

"Charles?"

His jaw clenches as he examines the ship again, just to make sure. As if he didn't want to  _believe_  this.

When he finally answers, Anne steps closer to her and grabs her arm protectively.

"It's the Revenge."


	62. Sacred Vessel

**_Atlantic Ocean_ **

**_31 years ago_ **

_It's depressing, how awfully familiar the sound has become._

_His head is throbbing, a sigh of frustration and despair escaping his lips as he drops to the mattress, right beside the wailing newborn._

_"I don't know what to do anymore, child..." He confesses, rubbing his temples. His eyes hurt, his lids are heavy as result of the last two sleepless nights. "You need to cooperate. I know you miss your mother, but..."_

**_But she's dead._ **

_"Charles-" His voice sounds so foreign to his own ears. It's tired, broken, **hopeless.**_

_His nephew's face is red from all that crying, two perfect, tiny fists clenched in the air. Those toothless gums are on full display as he screams at the top of his lungs._ _The sight breaks his heart just as much as the noises do._

_His boy must be so scared, so confused. Worst of all, he must be **starving.**_

_He refuses to accept the bottle, the formula; his lips are constantly searching around for his mother's breast. And each time he doesn't find it, each time he latches on to a cold, rubber nipple instead, he shows what a powerful set of lungs he already has._

_He hasn't fed in almost three days, and this can't be good for a two week old baby._

_It's already hard to cope with Naomi's death. The prospect of watching his nephew die because of his incompetence is too much._

_"Charles, please. If you just help me, I promise I will do anything for you. **Anything.** "_

_He gets to his feet, then carefully lifts the baby in his arms. Such a tiny, delicate little thing, he's always scared to end up crushing the boy._

_The ship sways gently beneath him, and he shifts his weight from one foot to another. It creates a peculiar rocking motion that often works to calm the little one down._

_Those tiny fingers grasp at the fabric of his shirt and he mutters a few reassuring words close to the baby's ear, making sure to support his head properly while holding him to his chest._

_"Please? I know you miss her, but just give me a **chance**... Everything will be okay."_

_To his amazement, just a few seconds later, the cries begin to die down._

_His eyes are filled with surprise as he kisses the soft hair on the top of Charles' head, muttering a "thank you", before rushing to grab the bottle from the bedside table._

_Settled on the bed again, Teach tries to feed his nephew for literally the 100th time. It's no surprise when the newborn begins to fuss, turning his face away from the offending rubber._

_Just as he's about to let his frustration get the best of him again, his mind travels to the past._

_There was a certain song. He remembers it clearly. The melody was often played in taverns at night, and slowly, it goes from his memory to his lips._

_He just hums the tune at first. But the lyrics soon begin to form in his brain and before he knows it, he's singing softly about islands and seas, mountains of rain and sun._

_"...give me the eyes, give me the soul, give me the lad that's gone..."_

_Charles' vision is supposed to be blurry still. He knows newborns can't see too well._

_And yet, those big blue eyes are fixed on his face._

_He can't believe it. It's like he has a completely different baby in his arms now. There's no crying, no fussing, his boy seems... Almost content._

_As if the song reminds him of something, something that soothes him._

**_Or maybe someone?_ **

_"... merry of soul, she sailed on a dais, over the sea..." His eyes go wide, watching as the bottle nipple finally disappeared between the newborn's lips. "... to Skye."_

_The moment is so magical. One of those tiny hands grabs a hold of his index finger, innocent blue eyes still locked to his face._ _He never stops humming the song, too awestruck to actually sing the lyrics._

_That look of pure devotion and love... His boy knows he's feeding him, he knows he's keeping him alive, and he's grateful for it._

_It has always amazed him; this look babies have on their faces whilst nursing._ _To actually be the recipient of that look is something he never thought he'd experience._

_Once his nephew's hunger is sated, he sets the empty bottle aside and leans back against the headboard, holding the tiny human being to his chest. Just as Naomi taught him to do, he pats the newborn's back softly to encourage a burp._

_Soon after, Charles is asleep in his arms. Breathing a sigh of relief, he kisses the side of his head tenderly._

_A smile plays on his lips._

**_He did it._ **

_And this is **all**  he ever wanted._

_"Thank you." He whispers quietly, his own tired eyes falling closed. This time, he's not thanking his little boy for cooperating._

_As he drifts off to sleep, there's only one sentence in his mind._

**_Thank you so much for giving me this._ **

* * *

**Shih Island**

**Present Days**

They can't see past the bay anymore.

That huge ship blocks the strait, a silent threat. Rowboats glide through the water surface, getting closer and closer to the beach. He's seen the Ranger by now. Of course, he recognized her immediately. That explains why he grabbed the oars himself, and his boat is now way ahead of the other three.

He will be setting foot on the beach in less than a minute.

The whole community is gathered around, talking amongst themselves. As unbelievable as it is, Madame Shih still seems surprised. Not only that, her body language also indicates she's nervous and angry as hell. She's standing near the water, in front of everyone else, facing the newcomers with a raised chin.

"What do you think he wants?" Eleanor whispers the question, eyes filled with venom as she watches the rowboats. Anne is tense like a bowstring right beside her.

Squeezing her hand, Charles looks from the intruders to her face.

"Go hide in our tent."

"What good will it make? He's seen the ship, he knows I'm here-"

" _Eleanor_."

His firm tone silences her. It leaves no room for argument, and she also notices the way he glances down at her stomach for a short second. The pleading look on his face makes her sigh and do as he requested. He nods at Anne and his protégée promptly follows the blonde, hands already moving to the blades strapped to her waist.

After sharing a quick look with Jack, he heads out into the beach, his best friend hot on his heels.

That first boat reaches the sand.

It's been a constant thought in his mind, since the day he woke up from the coma.

_What would their next encounter bring?_

He thought he'd be the one to catch his uncle off guard. He'd be the one to seek this man...

To ensure Eleanor's safety, no matter what.

The truth is, he's been preparing himself. Charles knew he'd might have to murder him. He'd been trying to prepare for it, as best as he could. Now the time has come, much earlier than he expected, catching  _him_  off guard instead.

And he feels just like a newborn, completely lost without its mother arms.

_Is this what he felt while adapting to life after Naomi's death?_

Unlike he'd previously assumed, Teach is not here for them.

The look on his face as he gets out of the boat gives it away. He seems so surprised, frustrated, apprehensive. Which can only mean he didn't come here on friendly terms.

_"...the estate is going through a few changes. Apparently, they have a new presence."_ Madame Shih's voice echoes in his mind and he clenches his jaw hard, coming to a stop by the Asian's side.

Just as Teach reached her too.

"What on earth are you doing in this place?"

He sounds almost like a reprimanding father.

It only makes Charles even angrier, and for some reason he just wishes Vasyl was here. But strangely, the Russian is nowhere to be seen.

"They arrived four months ago, seeking shelter. From  _you_." Shih answers the question for him, her voice a hundred times colder than usual.

"State your business." Charles says in a robotic manner, his blood turning to ice when the older man meets his eyes again.

"My business?"

"What the  _fuck_  do you want?" He snaps angrily, taking a step forward. Jack watches the scene closely, ready to intervene and do  _something,_  if he had to.

They all notice when Teach glances down at the scar on his nephew's abdomen. The clear result of an emergency surgical procedure. His eyes fill with guilt but he raises his chin, looking at Madame Shih again.

"I come on Esteban's behalf. As master of this island and this business, he decided that your peaceful time living off their land's resources has now come to an end. The members of this community..." He pauses, eyes moving over the apprehensive crowd. "... will have the opportunity to choose between slavery or death. As for you..."

There's a new emotion in his voice as his eyes return to Shih's face. "... Your fate will be up to Esteban."

"And who will take care of shipping the drug? Who will work at preventing trouble with the law?"

"I will."

The heated look they share is filled with a thousand unsaid words. A thousand buried feelings.

Charles meets Jack's eyes for a moment and his best friend raises an eyebrow, shrugging slightly.

"Now Madame, this can go peacefully or-"

"Or you can drop the act and face reality. You found something here today, or rather,  _someone_... Someone you weren't expecting to find. And you know full well that all your plans have been disrupted by his presence."

Only then, Charles notices that the sick, crazy bastard is here too. The red cavity on his shoulder is on full display, as usual, as he looks all around the beach.

_Now he's **definitely**  in combat mode._

"My nephew will not be harmed. I will make sure to let them know he's the only family I have."

"What about the girl? She's here too." Charles' eyes widen a little as he looks at Shih. She's unfazed by the tough look on his face. "Please go fetch her from the tent, Charles, will you?"

There's something in her eyes. He can't understand it, but suddenly, he knows it will be best if he does as she's saying.

She's silently telling him to trust her, and he glances at his uncle's face for a moment before heading back in the direction of his tent.

Shih watches him go for a brief second. Teach only looks at her when she speaks again. His attention was focused on that round scar near Charles' spine, yet another reminder of what took place in Somalia months ago...

"You could convince them to accept your nephew, I'm sure. But the other two? His accomplices? And Eleanor-"

"Now,  _why_  would I give a damn about what happens to that selfish witch?"

Jack clears his throat, glancing back at the jungle and outstretching an arm towards Carly. The teen is quick to run over to him and he holds her close to his side, making it clear she's under his care.

"Contrary to what you believe, Charles is not the only family member you have to consider. Not anymore." Jack says, knowing this is the right time. Carly flinches a little as the giant's eyes settle on them.

"What is  _that_  supposed to mean?"

Just as the couple comes out of the tent, Anne walking right beside them like a loyal guard dog, Shih's voice resounds through the place. Loud enough for everyone to hear.

"The girl. She's carrying his child."

.

All eyes come to her and she freezes, a few whispers sounding from the crowd. Virgil seems to be having a hard time believing the news.

And she's having a hard time dealing with this; having this half-secret revealed to everyone. It's like someone just burst her bubble of safety, and for a moment all those ill feelings come back.

That hatred for the fetus in her womb, the insecurity. Eleanor just wishes the baby would disappear. And a second later, she feels like the worst person in the world. She just wants to stroke her stomach and say " _I'm sorry_ " over and over again.

But they have more important matters to take care of, so she tries to ignore her inner conflict as best as she can.

Her eyes finally go to Teach and she finds him staring right at her stomach. But then he looks at her face, and she forgets how to breathe for a moment.

_Apparently, he's going through some inner conflicts as well._

The look in his eyes is a complex mix between anger, hatred, frustration... And  _happiness_?

Perhaps even a little bit of affection. It feels strange to see it, even though she knows that those last two emotions aren't there because of  _her_.

Suddenly, the silence is disrupted by a macabre screech, like the cry of a dying animal.

Only then she notices his presence.

Seeing  _him_  again, this up close, feels just like one of her nightmares.

_Like a journey to the past._

He's here.

He's here, and she has a baby in her womb.

Now she understands it perfectly; how Charles and Anne are able to slip into combat mode in the blink of an eye.

In less than a split second, everything changes and she's strong. The tactics Anne has taught her are all in her brain but-

The Spaniard grabs his rifle, aiming it at her in one swift move. Then his hands tremble, he seems scared, and unable to fire the shot properly. It all happens so fast, but oh so slowly at the same time.

Charles pulls her behind his body harshly, a flash of red hair catching her eye as Anne tried to act like a human shield too.

The bullet never comes.

Instead, there's another spine-chilling cry. When she manages to take a peek at the Spaniard again, he's agonizing on the sand and Teach is taking the rifle from him, a Taser in his hands.

"Lock him down in the brig!" His commanding voice is like booming thunder, and his men are quick to obey.

Only when that monster is restrained, and on his way back to the ship, does she feel like she can breathe again. He keeps yelling in Spanish from the rowboat, but his voice grows fainter and fainter each second.

"I assume there is a lot to be discussed. Considering..." He trails off, his eyes finding Eleanor again. There's a tired, defeated look on his face, and she raises her chin in defiance. "...the recent turn of events."

His stare lingers on her face for a couple of seconds longer, and just as she's getting restless, he looks at Shih.

"I'm still on a mission here. But I will arrange for my nephew's safe departure... With his  _family_."

"I'm afraid I cannot allow that."

"I'm afraid you have no choice."

Everyone on the beach notices it.

There's something between these two; the way they're looking at each other, the way their voices sound...

It's clear as the light of day; this isn't the first time they meet.

"Perhaps we could talk about this like civilized people?" Shih finally suggests after a few long moments, and the giant in front of her seems to be considering the possibility. "One representing your crew, one representing this community... And one representing your nephew's family."

The nod of his head is barely perceptible.

As Shih turns around, starting the walk back to her tent, the crowd parts.

Eleanor glares deadly daggers at her enemy when he walks past her, even as Charles does his best to stand in the way between them. They both notice the way Teach pauses for a moment, trying to get a closer look at her stomach, but then giving up and going back to following the Asian.

Once he's at a safe distance, Charles starts to follow too. Only to be stopped by nimble fingers, closing around his wrist.

" _Charles_."

Her eyes are wide, apprehensive, worried.

He steps closer to her, kissing her cheek, his hand lingering on her waist.

Butterflies fill her stomach as his thumb strokes her stomach softly. In truth, it barely moves... but it's there, a brief, feather-like caress. And it's enough for her.

_For now._

"It will be okay. I promise. Just  _trust_  me with this, I'll be back soon."

She swallows hard, her fingers letting go of his wrist as he walked away.

Her heart sinks when the three of them disappear inside Madame Shih's tent.

"Well, now that was an unexpected surprise."

She scoffs at Jack's words, her blood boiling again. It's starting to fully hit her now; that bastard just ruined everything. They were all so excited to put their plans into motion tomorrow and now...

"Unexpected. And unwelcome." She says in a bitter tone, and Jack clicks his tongue.

"Uh, I don't know about that, my hummingbird."

Frowning, she finally looks at him. He's standing a few feet behind her, Carly and Anne at his sides.

"What?"

"Something's telling me... That this could actually be a blessing in disguise."

Her frown only grows, then she's nodding in the direction of her and Charles' tent.

Anne follows her immediately but Jack takes a moment to dismiss Carly, promising to go find her once he was done.

Once they're all in the -  _relative_  - privacy of the tent, Eleanor crosses her arms and shakes her head.

"No matter how Shih feels about us, she would never give her best chances up. Anne and Charles are supposed to lead the army. She won't let us go without a bloody fight, even if she cares about us, because her interests are her top priority. I'm...  _familiar_  with that way of thinking, as you know."

He easily detects the self hatred in her tone, his eyes softening as he reached to squeeze one of her hands reassuringly.

"What I meant is... Charles may have success in dragging him to our side. Remember when we said we needed someone from inside the estate? This could be it."

She's scowling immediately. "He  _wouldn't_. That selfish monster-"

"See past your hatred." Anne's voice interrupts her and she glares at the redhead for a moment, but Jack backs her up.

"Remember we both spent some time with him, in the past. We know him... to a certain degree. I'm pretty certain his priority right now is to try and mend his relationship with Charles. And well... There's also our godchild."

She averts her eyes, staring at the flap and thinking about his words as he continues to talk.

"It would surprise you, darling, if you knew how  _sensitive_  he is about the miracle of life. Especially if said tiny miracle... Was produced with a little help from his own flesh and blood... Even better, Charles."

"Charles is the key." Anne concludes and he nods, glancing down at Eleanor's stomach.

"Charles and the baby. No matter what they decide in that tent... The three of you will be safe. You have my word."

Shaking her head, the blonde finally meets his eyes again.

"What about you?"

"We'll work things out, whatever comes our way." He says with a shrug, forcing a smile.

But she sees how apprehensive he is on the inside, and one look at Anne lets her know she feels the same way.

"I think I would like to be alone right now." Eleanor declares, feeling a headache coming on already.

Thankfully, they both respect her wishes. After saying a few last reassuring words and pressing a kiss to her forehead, Jack leaves the tent. Anne stalls for a moment, holding the flap open and looking at her face.

"Just letting ya know I'll be guarding the entrance... whether you like it or not."

With those words, the redhead leaves her alone, not even giving her time to respond in any way.

A smile tugs at her lips and she shakes her head, walking over to her suitcase so she could retrieve a sweater. The air is starting to become chilly already, as it does almost every night.

Once safe from the cold, she grabs Madame Shih's gift from the suitcase too. her eyes soften as she holds the tiny cap in her hands.

So small... Her baby will be so  _small_  at birth. How is she going to deal with that?

Just as she brings the cap to her nose so she could inhale its soothing scent, a mix between incense and maybe some kind of herb, there's some noise from outside. She hears Anne drawing her blades, and her whole body tenses up in preparation for a fight.

But then a familiar voice comes.

_"I just need to talk to her for a moment. You know I mean no harm."_

Breathing a sigh of relief, she allows herself to relax. "Anne, let him in."

Just a second later, he's coming in through the flap, still just as awestruck.

"Ma'am."

She rises back to her normal stature, taking a couple steps closer to her former bodyguard.

"What is it?"

Virgil's eyes drop to the cap in her hands and he lets out a brief chuckle.

"It was quite the shock."

Her jaw clenches. "Is this what you came here for, a closer look at this freak show known as the pregnant tyrant?"

"No, ma'am." He reassures her quickly, the look in his eyes changing to something more serious in a heartbeat. "I'm aware a division might happen here tonight, and I just wanted to let you know whose side I will be taking."

She raises an eyebrow, settling on the bunk. "Ours?"

"I yearn to go back home. My business with this place, with the Madame, is done. I would like to accept your invitation and become a part of your crew... early. If you'll have me?"

She considers him for a moment, making sure he was serious. All she sees in his eyes is honesty, so she nods softly.

"Of course."

The corners of his lips twitch up, then his eyes drop to her hands again. Her thumbs are stroking the fabric of the cap, she didn't even realize it.

"I hope he or she will be healthy."

Amazingly, she doesn't feel uncomfortable.

"Any names in mind?"

Eleanor chuckles at that, shaking her head. "You're dismissed."

After smiling and giving her a curt nod of respect, Virgil leaves her alone again. She actually thinks about baby names for a few moments, not coming up with any.

Her mind soon travels to more serious matters.

Letting out a heavy sigh, she lies down on the bunk. One of her hands hold the little cap to her stomach, the other one caresses it lovingly. She's fighting so hard against the urge to go there and take matters into her own hands... She's forcing herself to  _trust_  him.

A grimace comes to her face, as she feels some slight cramping. It's almost as if the little one knows what's happening.

_Can the baby feel her distress already?_

The words are tumbling from her lips before she can stop herself.

"Daddy's going to get us out of this mess, little love. Don't worry."

_It's a good thing she's alone right now..._

_"He will, kid."_  Anne says from outside the tent and her eyes fall closed.

The discomfort of getting caught doesn't last for more than a few seconds.

* * *

**Phuket**

He already knows sleep won't come tonight. No matter how hard he tries, how many pills he takes, his mind is too restless and he's unable to relax.

For now, there's really nothing they can do, so what's the harm in having a drink?

_It might very well be his last, anyway._

Just as he's pouring himself a second glass, the door of his cabin opens.

Flint knows there's only one person who would have the audacity, so he doesn't even look up at the intruder. He also knows it would be useless to try and get rid of him, so all he does is retrieve a new glass from his cabinet.

"I've been meaning to talk to you... Since the moment we left the Bahamas." The con man says, after nearly half an hour of silent drinking.

Flint doesn't meet his eyes, but he's not discouraged.

"About what's to come tomorrow. I know you plan on throwing yourself into danger, I know you want to leave this world, and I was wondering. What will you achieve? I mean, what comes after this? I have no memories of the afterlife, what about you?"

The questions are met with silence.

Only half an hour, and they're almost halfway through the rum bottle already, perhaps they should slow down.

_Or not._

"Do you think you're going to see him, on the other side?"

Those words finally make him show a reaction, his eyes dark with warning as he glared daggers at John.

"How many times will I have to say it? This subject is  _not_  open for discussion."

"If you're not talking to me about him, then... How about we change topics?" John leaves his seat at the foot of the bed, moving closer to the desk. "I've noticed a few things about you. Here I thought it was impossible, but nowadays you have even more issues. You're even more haunted, disturbed... Have you ever talked about this with anyone-"

"I'm not going to talk about him-"

"This  _isn't_  about Thomas!"

It's a taboo today.

That name, people around him know better than to mention it. Even Caroline and Eleanor avoid it at all costs, and he doesn't say it too often either.

Maybe if they'd ignored it, the tragedy would feel more distant... Like a faded memory, a blurry dream. It's the first time someone forces him to open that dusty closet and face the demons he so desperately tries to keep locked away.

Of course it had to be  _this_ man.

Despite the alcohol numbing his senses, Flint rises from the chair without losing his balance.

"Caroline says you need something to live for. I disagree. You already have that something-"

" _Why_  did you come?"

The con man frowns, falling silent as Flint stopped right in front of him. Is he  _really_  trying to turn the tables here?

"Excuse me?"

"You should be home with  _her_  right now, why did you come? While that family needs you back in the Bahamas, you're here, preparing to dive into a war that is  _not_  yours to fight. I have asked before, but I wasn't satisfied with your answer.  _Why_  are you here?"

His throat feels dry and for the first time in forever, he's at a loss for words.

_It's so hard to admit the truth..._

"You know what I think your problem is?" John asks, changing the subject and crossing his arms over his chest. The cabin suddenly feels a hundred times more claustrophobic than it truly is.

And the bed right beside them seems like a deep, dangerous precipice.

_A **tempting**  one-_

"I think you should stop living in the past. You cling to it so desperately... The problem isn't what happened to Thomas. He was a link to your past, you sought him out... But he was gone. And so you ran to that hospital, as soon as you found out about Eleanor's birth. I see a pattern here. You said she gave you a chance to be a better man, while I don't doubt that... I think there's more to this story. You had the house rebuilt, for God's sake! An  _exact_  copy! You try so hard to swim against the current; you've been doing it for decades and now you're...  _exhausted_."

He grips his glass tighter, unable to take a single step back, for some reason. And the con man is only two feet away from him, he should really put some distance between them...

"What for? What good did it make, chasing after the past? Your existence feels empty because you have so much unfinished business... You refuse to take care of it, you can't embrace this new reality. You  _lie_  to yourself, and at this point you're probably  _lost_  between what's real and what's not."

Not even the powerful medium they have back home manages to put into words what he feels. Maybe because Caroline is too pure to dive into the darkest, stained depths of his soul.

It should scare him, what's happening here tonight.

But all he feels is the urge to  _know_...

"Why are you here?"

His voice comes out weaker than usual; quiet, tired.

And when John speaks again, he sounds strangely gentle.

"Because when it comes to me, I think there's a lot you've been keeping bottled up... Ever since the past. And you're not alone. There's a lot  _I_  have been keeping bottled up too... When it comes to  _you_."

Their eyes meet again. For a moment it's almost as if they're back in the old girl, swaying softly in the waves. But there's no creaking wood all around them now.

"You and I, we have a  _lot_  of unfinished business."

The con man steps even closer, definitely invading his vital space. Flint can feel his breath on his cheek, but he doesn't even break eye contact.

"And I think it's high time we  _both_  find the courage to face all that.  _This_  is the real reason why I'm here."

There's a good chance he'll die tomorrow. Even if he doesn't, they will be focused on the battle. After that, during the trip back home, he will have his little girl to worry about. Then John will return to his happy little life with Madi and they will have no time to face the consequences of this. They can even just pretend it never happened.

The circumstances are perfect. And he's tired of fighting.

_He's **exhausted**  of swimming against the current._

Neither of them knows who reaches for who.

All they know is that in a matter of seconds their lips are locked and they're both fumbling with their clothes.

It's liberating. It's like coming home and right now, regret feels like the most distant thing in the world. Maybe tomorrow it won't be like that, but all that matters is the now.

Faint drunken laughter and voices come from the deck. The yacht sways beneath their feet. The canopy is hastily pulled aside, and the bed is now a precipice they're both perfectly  _happy_  to throw themselves into.

* * *

**Shih Island**

A heavy sigh leaves her lips, her fingers stopping their tapping motion against her lower abdomen just before she moved to get to her feet.

It's been two hours now, and her patience is starting to run thin.

She has half a mind of rushing to the hill and trying to call Flint, needing this distraction, needing to vent and just  _talk_  to him... but something keeps her from doing so.

He must be doing something  _important_ , she feels that in her bones. And whatever it is, Eleanor doesn't want to interrupt it.

Pacing around the small space of their shelter, she rubs her temples. This stress... It can't be good for the baby, but try as she might, she just can't calm the fuck down-

_"...she asleep, dear heart?"_

His voice. He's finally back.

Her eyes fall closed.

_"Don't know. She's pissed."_

_"Go catch some sleep. I'll brief you both in the morning."_

There's some silence, probably as they shared some gesture of affection of theirs, and then Eleanor hears that tell tale rustling sound.

She eagerly rushes over to him as he comes in through the flap. "So?"

Charles considers her for a moment before nodding at the bunk with a heavy sigh.

"Sit down. You're  _not_  going to like this."

Reluctantly, she obeys, eyes fixed on him as he went over to his bag, to retrieve his flask.

"New plans... As you probably suspect, most of the scenarios we discussed included a bloodbath. Our interests... Differ a lot. My uncle's priority was for the three of us to leave this place, right now. You, me, the..." He trails off, taking a drink. She sees how uncomfortable he suddenly is.

" _Baby_." He looks over at her and she shrugs. "Your tongue isn't going to fall off or catch fire if you say the word. Trust me, at first I thought mine would, but it never happened."

He stays silent for a moment and she just prays, for the first time ever, that Teach will get what he wants. She's just so tired, she just wants to go home...

"Madame Shih didn't disclosure her plans to him. At first. But the Spaniards already knew she was up to something."

"How?"

"Don't know." He sits on the bunk too, flask in hands. They keep each other's eyes for what feels like forever, then his words send a wave of excitement crashing over her.

"She agreed to let us walk away from this place freely... Unharmed.  _Right now._  We can board the ship and go home tonight..."

Eleanor lets out a happy laugh, feeling as if a huge weight has just been lifted from her shoulders. But her bright smile fades as she notices the dark look on his face.

"...on one condition." He sighs heavily, hesitating for a moment. Is that a hint of  _fear_  she sees in his eyes? "Jack and Anne stay behind."

Her heart sinks. And only now she's able to read him.

She was right, there  _is_  fear in his eyes. But he's also giving her a pleading look.

She knows why. She  _knows_  that if she asks him to do this, he  _will_  end up cracking. He will take her home; her and the baby. The possibility scares him to death, and he's not certain whether she will connect with her old self to make this decision or not.

The person she once was would grasp this opportunity with both hands. But that person is dead and buried, and even though the ghost of her comes haunt them from times to times, she's  _not_  in control anymore.

"You didn't agree to that, did you?"

He actually closes his eyes in relief for a moment.

It makes her want to smile.

"Of course I didn't."

"What if you pretend to agree? We go to Phuket, Flint takes me away. In the meantime, instead of following us, you return for the crew. We could meet in Africa later, and go home together."

"I tried to suggest this to her. Hell, I nearly  _begged_  her to let me take you to Phuket. But she said that if you left Thailand, I would have to go with you. She threatened to arrange Jack and Anne's deaths, if I came back."

Utterly confused, she frowns, trying to think of an explanation. This makes no sense at all.

"Why would she do that? After all, she needs you here."

"It will make sense soon." He sighs heavily, taking a few other long gulps of rum before continuing. "We came here in 12 people, and I won't be leaving anyone behind. I also reminded her about Carly and Virgil, about how they're going home with us, and..."

"And?"

"She said there is no way the Spaniards will let this go. If they notice there are 14 people missing, they will hunt us down. And she will tell them exactly where our home is located."

Scoffing, Eleanor grips the pillow tighter.  _Who_  does that woman think she is?

"Things started to get rough from there. My uncle knew there's no way I'd leave the crew behind to die, so he ignored her previous words and said he'd smuggle all of us out of the island tonight. He said he'd tell the Spaniards we were killed, for putting up a fight. And Shih counter attacked by promising she would sell him out to his new partners. His temper flared, and he almost attacked her. But then he remembered he's supposed to keep her alive for now... And she  _knew_  that."

Her eyes fall closed as she begins to catch up. Everything starts making sense, and she shakes her head slowly.

"It was at that moment... We realized we were  _both_  caught in her web. We realized she'd planned the  _entire_  conversation, saying every single word on purpose to achieve the desired end, and we gave all the answers she expected us to give. When we realized what was going on, she'd successfully cornered us into a dead end. There was nowhere to run."

Clenching her jaw, she gives in, reaching for the flask. Surprisingly, Charles gives her a look of disapproval as she brings it to her lips.

She does feel guilty, but just a little sip won't hurt... And she needs to feel that familiar burning sensation in her throat, she needs to calm her nerves.

Even if she'd been meaning to drink more, the flask is soon snatched from her loose grip. Charles gets to his feet, walking over to the suitcases, so he could put the alcohol away.

Her heart skips a beat.

So he genuinely  _cares_  about their baby's well being... He wants to protect the child, to make sure he or she will be healthy...

"She holds all the dice, Eleanor. Even when she's in a compromising position, threatened, she  _still_  holds all the dice." He faces the bunk again, staying close to the suitcases for now and raising an eyebrow at her. There's the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes. "Reminds me of a  _certain someone_."

Ignoring his teasing remark, she moves on her knees. Her hands rest on her thighs as she scowls up at him.

"So  _what_  did you decide, in the end?"

"We won't be going anywhere tomorrow."

" _Charles_!?"

"Will you hear me out?"

She's livid. But still, Eleanor stays silent, giving him a chance to speak. He walks closer to the bunk, stopping within her reach, but not sitting back down.

"My uncle realized she'd left him with two options. No matter how he tried to fix the situation, everything would fail. Two options. The first one; following through with his original plans and harming me -  _and_  my kid - in the process. Second option..."

Could it be? She doesn't want to get her hopes up, she needs to be sure first-

"He's agreed to be our spy. Our ally... Instead of  _theirs_. He's going to  _help_ us win this fight."

Her stress is completely forgotten as she jumps into his arms, kissing him senseless.

He's too stunned to react at first but when he does, he takes control completely. Her clothes are removed quickly and he lifts her from the dirt ground, closing the short distance back to the bunk.

A shiver goes down her spine as she realizes it will be the first time they do this, since the day she told him about the baby.

_Will it be any different?_

He sits on the edge of the bunk, hands leaving her bottom and caressing her thighs as she straddled his lap. All his attention and interest soon travel somewhere else, and she almost rolls her eyes. Of course, she's more focused on the changes to her abdomen, the  _baby_  is in there... But that is  _not_  the only part of her body that's starting to get bigger.

Her eyes fall closed, a sigh of pleasure escaping her as he cupped her breasts.

She digs her nails into the skin of his shoulders, silently reminding him to go easy. A soft squeeze from his hands is already enough to bring her to the delicate border between pleasure and discomfort.

And he understands. He's unable to hold back from bringing his mouth to her breasts, but even while capturing a nipple between his teeth, he's gentle.

_Careful._

At the back of her mind, she wonders what'll feel like in six months or so. Her baby will need a lot of nourishment, and strangely, it's the first time she ever thinks about this...

Is she going to breastfeed? Does she even want to?

They say there's  _nothing_  better for a baby's health, so she should probably give it a try.

She  _will_  give it a try.

Her fingers tangle in his hair and she can't stop herself from kissing his forehead as he sucks softly, slowly, testing the waters. The feeling only makes her think about feeding their child once more, and she doesn't know if she's eager or  _terrified_. After all, their baby probably won't be nearly as gentle, especially when he or she wakes up starving in the middle of the night...

The thought makes her scowl, an involuntary hiss leaving her lips. He immediately stops what he's doing, meeting her eyes apprehensively. She shakes her head.

"You didn't hurt me. I just suddenly thought about how less...  _careful_  with this sensitive part of my body a certain someone will be... in a few months."

He averts his eyes, frowning a little.

Probably not liking the possibility of seeing her in pain.

"Can't we teach it?  _Train_  it somehow, so it won't hurt you?"

_Oh no, she'll **have**  to tell Jack about this one tomorrow._

Trying not to laugh at his sweet ignorance, she traces his jawline with her fingertips.

"I wish... But babies are not dogs."

He rolls his eyes at her sarcastic tone, but a wicked glint soon comes to those blue depths. And she knows she's in trouble.

"Speaking of sensitive body parts..."

He moves, lying on his back on the bunk and pulling her along. She soon realizes his intentions, excitement taking her over as she eagerly followed his silent command.

Once she's in place, lowering herself onto his face, he wastes no time.

She's just so  _sensitive_. It can only be the hormones. Every single press of his lips, each swipe of his talented tongue, every teasing nibble and gentle suck feels like paradise.

She arches her back a little to allow him more access, fisting her hands in his dark hair. The texture is rough again, now that he's not using conditioner anymore. He groans against her core as she pulls at his hair, urging him for more, and it creates the most delicious vibrations. It's bizarre; how much she's able to feel. That expert tongue dances over her, sending sparks of pleasure through her entire body.

" _Fuck_ , that feels so amazing-" She whimpers, unable to do anything about her voice for now. It's not like she gives a damn about the way she sounds like in this moment anyway.

_Too much._

It's almost too much. It's mortifying, almost scary, how soaking wet she is.

She feels him move, her eyes following one of his hands when it leaves her waist. Goosebumps rise all over her arms as she watches him touch himself, hips jutting off the strange mattress slightly in his desperation. It only adds even more fuel to the fire; the fact that he's just as turned on as her.

And as amazing as it feels, what that tongue is doing to her right now... As much as she  _loves_  to come like this, one look at that rock hard member, and she immediately feels painfully empty.

The sound of protest that leaves his throat when she moves away, ruining his fun, makes the corners of her lips twitch up.

His scowl of displeasure fades away as soon as she moves further down his body, her own hand batting his away and taking its place.

And she can't believe it, but most of the desire in his eyes turn into concern when she guides him to her entrance.

"You sure it's safe?" His voice is hoarse with lust and for a moment, she just frowns at him.

Then it hits her.

He's worried about the baby. He's  _scared_  of hurting it.

A soft smile plays on her lips and she leans in to kiss him reassuringly while feeling that delicious stretch, sinking down into him slowly, inch by glorious inch, until they were finally joined again after nearly a week of no intimacy at all.

The sensations are all so heightened; almost as if her nerves are in overdrive.

His hands travel all over her body as she moves above him, his eyes drinking the sight in. It's one of his favorite things to see. Her flushed cheeks, that glossy hair cascading over her shoulders, her chest, creating a golden curtain around them each time she moved to kiss him. Those pink lips, parted so that the string of gasps and choked moans could escape easier. She's breathtaking, and he just wants to burn this image into his brain for all eternity.

His fingertips press into the skin of her hips, surely hard enough to leave a few marks, and judging by the sounds he soon begins to make, this is being extra intense for him too. At first she tried not to make too much noise, as usual, out of respect for the community.

_But tonight there's something different, isn't there?_

Teach is somewhere out there, and she's more than happy to rub this victory in his face. To show him that despite his best efforts, the bond between her and Charles is now stronger than it ever was before.

_Even bearing fruit, in fact..._

A wicked smirk plays on her lips and she picks up her pace.

_She can do **anything.**_

She can give Teach  _hell_. She can say anything to his face, take all her anger out on him, and there will be no consequences. She could punch him in the face tomorrow and he wouldn't react. He wouldn't do anything to hurt her, because she's now a sacred vessel that holds such a precious treasure... Probably the  _most_  precious treasure for him.

_Oh, but she'll make him suffer..._

It's as if the thoughts only heighten her pleasure even more. She wouldn't be able to keep quiet, even if this was just another normal night in the campgrounds.

She just hopes Anne obeyed her mentor's order and isn't standing guard outside their tent anymore, or else she'll be hearing a few complaints in the morning.

Soon, all thoughts about the crew, her enemy or anyone else have vanished from her mind. There's just the two of them; the sensations so  _strong_... She claws at his skin, at the sheets, droplets of sweat trailing down the valley of her breasts and falling to his chest as he grabbed her hips tighter, unable to stay put anymore. She can't help but cry out when he begins to thrust up into her erratically, a sign he was closer than she thought. It always makes her feel so damn powerful; this effect she has on him.

Wanting to make him even crazier, she leans in to bite his earlobe.

"You've no idea how  _amazing_  this feels. It's so  _fucking_  intense." Her voice comes out shaky, desperate, but she doesn't mind.

Not when he's falling apart, her name a praise on his lips. His arms pull her flush against his chest, and the pressure against her over sensitive breasts is all it takes.

Blinding pleasure bursts inside her, then all her senses just fade away.

.

She's the most amazing creature to ever walk this planet and it's during moments like these that he knows his heart and soul belong to her. No matter what she does, they're  _her_  property, and hers alone.

And he will follow her anywhere like a lost puppy.

His hips are still moving slowly, his eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath. After a few seconds, he notices there's something wrong.

She's unmoving in his arms,  _limp_ , and alarm fills his heart as he pulls her to the side a little.

_Her eyes are closed._

Just as he's about to call out for Jack, or to run into the neighboring tent without even bothering with clothes, her eyes flutter open again and she looks around in confusion.

"What was that?" He asks, paying close attention to her face.

Her soft frown is one of the most adorable things he'll ever see.

"It just felt so good, it -  _overwhelming_." She struggles to find the words, not really succeeding. It's as if he has a different version of her in his arms right now; her eyes are so vulnerable as she stares at his face, clinging to him like a scared little girl. "Just couldn't...  _handle_  it, I guess."

He'd always known he was talented. Mary, Idelle and many other girls often told him that, but  _nothing_  could possibly inflate his ego more than  _this_.

This woman, her wide eyes filled with a mix of amazement, alarm and lingering pleasure, letting him know she can't believe what he just did to her.

But she still recovers enough to slap his chest when he gives her a self assured, smug smirk.

"It's the damn hormones."

He shrugs at her, the words doing nothing to stop his ego from growing more and more with each passing second.

"I almost went to get Jack." He says, brushing her hair behind her ear gently. She grimaces and shakes her head immediately.

"Ugh, no. I love him, but just  _no_. He would have teased us about this forever."

"Teased  _you_ , you mean. I'd have no problem hearing him talk about this every day."

For some reason, she can't help but smile, hiding her face against his chest. "As if you won't go brag to Anne about this tomorrow."

"If you don't beat me to it. The two of you are just on the verge of becoming a pair of chatty girlfriends. Don't think I haven't noticed."

Chuckling, she tries to move impossibly closer, sighing in satisfaction as he pulled the blanket over their bodies. She was just starting to shiver from the cool air.

Teach must be mad with rage...

_Which reminds her..._

"How long?"

His arms tighten around her, the atmosphere changing to something more serious in a heartbeat.

"Maybe two weeks, three at most. He'll go back to the estate, to give them his report. He'll be taking Madame Shih with him, as proof that he managed to subdue her and the community. That night, we attack, taking advantage of this distraction. Details will be discussed over the next few days."

She shakes her head, sighing heavily in frustration. "I was supposed to have seen a doctor by now."

"Jack's as good as any physician from our time. Back then, we had no machines allowing us to see inside women's bodies, and everything used to go just fine... Most of the time."

"I suppose I just..." Swallowing hard, she looks into his eyes, her fingers tightening around the string of his necklace. "I want to be  _reassured_. To make sure everything is going well, to hear a heartbeat... I just really want to  _see_  him or her, Charles. It's all I want. To see this... perfect little thing we accidentally created."

Tears burn in her eyes and he doesn't look away from her this time. Even though she sees the faintest hint of discomfort in his eyes.

He kisses her forehead, caressing her shoulder in a revering manner. "You're doing fine. Kid's okay."

"I trust Jack's word. I  _really_  do, I feel very safe with him around. But as he said, he's not a professional. I admit I miss it. A  _real_  doctor or a nurse with me."

She knows there's nothing they can do about this right now. Still, it just feels nice to vent.

After a few minutes of silence, his voice fills her ears again.

"Make sure you let Flint know about this change of plans first thing in the morning, alright? The last thing we need during this delicate time is an angry father raiding the island in search of you. Make sure he'll stay put until the day comes."

"It used to be the other way around. Him, asking me to make sure you'd stay put." Eleanor chuckles, feeling him smile against the skin of her forehead.

She can't help but feel as if her father figure will be very, very angry and frustrated about this... For some reason.

Oh well, he'll just have to find something to do in Phuket for the next two or three weeks.

_It's no big deal._

Some pleasure still lingers, every muscle of her body feels so relaxed and she doesn't think she'd be able to walk right now.

Or for the next few hours.

It's amazing, but she she's still feeling the effects from that earth shattering orgasm. Nuzzling his neck, she lets out a long sigh of satisfaction.

"Just...  _God_. It wasn't like this with him. I remember it just used to hurt so much. Those last two months before I died."

He stiffens, fingers squeezing her arm a little. "It  _hurt_  and you didn't tell him to stop?"

Taken aback at how angry he sounds, she frowns, meeting his eyes again.

"I didn't want him to suspect anything."

"Fuckin' bastard should have noticed." The words are spoken through gritted teeth, his eyes filled with fury. "He should have  _noticed_  you were in pain, he should have  _stopped_."

"It's okay... It's over now." She kisses his birthmark in an attempt at calming him down. It doesn't work.

"I'll cut his fingers off. Then I'll cut a body part he'll miss a lot more, let's see  _how_  he'll like that pain."

She can't help but smirk at the thought, shaking her head softly. "It's not like he ever used his fingers to try and give me any pleasure, but oh well... Save that fate for Low.  _He_ is the rapist. I can't wait for the day we'll get to cut off a different head of his."

Again, her attempt at lightening the mood fails miserably. He's still shaking his head, thinking about what she said... probably also fantasizing about breaking into her and her husband's chambers during one of those nights and tearing him to pieces.

"He caused you pain. You felt forced to just shut up, lie there and  _endure_  it. Until it was over.  _That_  classifies as rape to me."

"I didn't feel abused. I  _really_  didn't. It's okay." Her words are truthful. If there's one thing she doesn't want is for him to see or treat her as a victim.

Even though his reaction is starting to annoy her, she can't help but feel elated.

"I wasn't expecting you to get so angry."

"The thought of him touching you is already too much, but  _this_ -"

With a kiss, she shuts him up. Her eyes glint as she pulls away, thumbs stroking his cheekbones soothingly.

"Just calm down. It's  _okay_."

She sees it in his eyes when he finally lets this go, his long, heavy sigh making her smile.

"I  _really_  love you, did you know that?"

"Let's see if you'll be saying that in six months or so..."

A grimace comes to her face. " _Don't_  remind me."

The corners of his lips twitch up. She doesn't fail to see the concern in his eyes.

When the big day comes, he'll probably suffer a lot too. She knows he's not looking forward to seeing her in so much pain.

"I really love you too. And I'll  _still_  be saying that in six months or so."

His tone is joking, but she catches the hidden meaning in his words.

_He's not going anywhere._

"I know." She nuzzles his neck again, listening to his heartbeat. One of her hands rests over the scar on his abdomen, the other one covering her lower stomach protectively.

"Deep down, I knew it from the start."


	63. A Reason to Live

**Shih Island**

**06:30 AM**

_She's still in the very same position from when they fell asleep._

It's the first thing Charles notices upon waking up, and the corners of his lips twitch up involuntarily. Her breathing is soft, her features so peaceful, and he loses a good ten minutes just studying every single inch of her face.

His eyes soon move over the rest of her body too, lingering on that barely visible protuberance. A brief scowl comes to his face, but it's gone in less than two seconds. The usual discomfort is accompanied by an urge that's just starting to become familiar too.

After looking at her face again and making sure she was still sound asleep, he finally gives in.

His hand trembles a little at first. But when his palm touches that little project of a bump, it just feels as if all the problems in their lives are fading away.

His face softens, lips parting slightly.

In this stolen moment, he feels  _prouder_  than he's ever been before.

There's a  _life_ , a human being developing in there. A human being  _he_  helped to create. The best thing he's ever made in his two lifetimes.

Something good. Something pure.

For the first time ever, they're creating something that's entirely pure.

They're doing it  _together_.

He's not sure how much time passes, his eyes glued to her stomach. His knuckles brush over it softly, carefully; He's almost scared of staining that perfect little bean with his touch.

Scared of  _hurting_  it. Such a delicate, tiny little thing...

Eleanor moves in her sleep, and he's harshly brought back from his musings. His hand leaves her stomach immediately, his blood running cold.

But she doesn't wake up. He got away with this.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he carefully removes his left arm from under her neck. After pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead and getting to his feet, Charles searches their small shelter for the bermuda shorts he'd been wearing yesterday. They're not  _entirely_  covered in dirt, so that's exactly what he's going to wear today too.

Before leaving, he grabs his phone from one of the suitcases.

Only a few people from the community are up and out of their tents at this time, his uncle is back on the Revenge for now. Neither of his accomplices have woken up yet, and he looks over at the small harbor at the end of the beach.

The motorboat is there, of course. It's where Vasyl sleeps.

Somehow, Charles just knows he's not in there.

_Did he go back to the tree house?_

Frowning to himself and shaking his head, he heads into the jungle, walking for a few seconds until he reaches the makeshift staircase that led up to the cliff. Just as he'd hoped, there's phone signal, and he scrolls through his contact list. After a brief moment of hesitation, he dials the number.

What time is it, back home? He never bothered to memorize the information. It must be the... evening?

All that matters is that when she answers the call, her voice doesn't sound sleepy. So he didn't wake her up.

_"Something wrong?"_

It's surprising to him; how relieved he feels when the familiar accent fills his ears.

The last conversation they shared, just the two of them, was pretty deep. But that doesn't mean he'd be one to call her just for the sake of it. Just to ask about her day, or to say he misses her.

And the moment she saw his name on the caller ID, of course she knew that already. So she wasted no time with pleasantries and went straight to the point.

Charles appreciates that a lot.

"She fainted. Last night. I want to know if I should be worried about that."

_"You weren't, well... **strangling**  her, were you?"_

He scoffs at the question, reaching inside the pocket of his bermuda shorts for the pack of chewing gum.

Both him and Anne have ran out of cigarettes, and they'd been hoping to replenish their stock today. But with the change of plans, they'll have to rely on gum in order to relieve their nicotine withdrawal.

And he's actually starting to get used to the idea that smoking anywhere near Eleanor for the next few months is out of the question.

_Smoking near the baby will be out of the question too..._

"In her current state? What kind of person do you think I am?"

_"Good. Save **that** for later. I know how much the two of you enjoy those little games, but my godchild should be spared."_

He rolls his eyes, the boring taste of mint on his tongue doing nothing to calm his nerves.

_"You two idiots are sick, did you know that? Considering the delicate past, I'd assume you would want to avoid this sort of-"_

"Max."

His tone holds a hint of warning, and he hears her soft chuckle perfectly. His eyes narrow.

If she thinks she can make fun of him like this...

_"It could be nothing, that depends on a few things. First of all. How long did it last?"_

A wicked half smirk comes to his face.

"Less than usual, she's been much more sensitive so-"

" _Charles_." She deadpans, all the humor gone from her voice. He can picture the look on her face as if she's right in front of him.

Payback is a bitch.

_"I asked about when she lost consciousness, not about how long she can last. Trust me, I know that **very** well already."_

He likes this woman. It's a strange truth, but he does.

_How come he's not jealous of her anymore?_

Letting his mind travel to last night, he searches his brain for the answer to her question.

"10 seconds at most."

_"When?"_

Looking at the ocean, he frowns. There's a lone rowboat making its way to the beach, and after squinting a little, he's able to recognize its only occupant.

His uncle.

"When what?"

_"When did it happen, idiot?"_

"Judging by your tone, you know exactly what's the answer to that question."

He hears as she scoffs from the other side of the line. His eyes follow the rowboat and he's only half focused on the conversation now.

_"It's not common, I can tell you. But there's an explanation. She was probably breathing too fast, which caused her to hyperventilate. Or the blood flow to her brain was reduced, because you know... All that blood was concentrated on another part of her body."_  He keeps nodding to himself, watching as his uncle steeped foot on the beach. A confused look comes to his face. Is that a tray of food he's retrieving from the rowboat?  _"She'll be fine. Just make sure to go easy on her from now on, and if it happens again, let me know."_

A distant hum of agreement is all Charles grants her. He loses sight of Teach for a few moments.

_"By the way, about the amount of time it takes to bring her to heaven... my best performance ever was 2 minutes and a half."_  She says proudly, catching him off guard.

He was just going to end the call and go see what his uncle is up to, but then his mind travels to a certain night two weeks ago, when he first realized how extra sensitive his queen was.

With a half smirk, he clears his throat.

"50 seconds."

Her gasp of surprise only serves to stroke his ego.

_"That's a lie, if I ever heard one!"_

"Ask her."

She was going to say something else, but he hangs up on her. His feet are already carrying him over to the staircase, then he stops in his tracks.

Their tent is visible from here. And under other circumstances, the sight of that huge figure standing just a few feet away from the entrance would have put him in combat mode immediately.

But instead of a gun or a blade, all his uncle has is a white tray in his hands, his body language lacking any hint of aggressiveness.

Raising an eyebrow, Charles stays put, watching the scene from above.

_This is going to be interesting._

* * *

It was no surprise when she woke up and found him gone. For some reason he's probably having some trouble facing her in the early hours of morning; it was like this yesterday, too.

But it doesn't matter. Now she knows he's not going anywhere.

Stretching, she allows herself to smile softly. Her body is still feeling the effects from the wonderful night, and her cheeks actually burn a little when she remembers about how she fainted for a few seconds.

Or how loud she was.

It'll probably be one of these days when all the women in the campgrounds will be giving her  _that_  look all day long.  _"No wonder she got pregnant",_  they'll probably whisper among themselves.

But it doesn't matter. Deep down, they're all just jealous and Eleanor knows that.

With that petty thought, she smiles wide, getting to her feet. The flap is closed, so she carelessly walks over to her suitcase, the now hot air hitting her naked skin. Just as she's looking for a bikini set and a sarong to wear, however, the wisps of hair on the back of her neck stand up.

Her smile falls and she looks over at the flap, a scowl coming to her face.

Her sixth sense is  _screaming_. She feels it, there's something out there.

A shiver goes down her spine, her blood running cold. She could swear she'll come face to face with a hungry jaguar when she leaves the tent, but it makes no sense. Shih's security system is still up and running, there's no way the creature would be able to access the campgrounds...

Besides, she hears people talking and laughing outside, so there must be no threat...  _Right_?

After getting dressed, she storms over to the flap, pulling it open with an angry look on her face.

For a moment, she's frozen. Then alarm takes her over and she tenses up in preparation for a fight that never comes.

His body language is passive, contrasting with the look in his eyes.

She sees it perfectly; a mix of disgust, anger, frustration, curiosity and something  _warm_  she's simply unable to decode.

_He's definitely conflicted as hell, isn't he?_

They stare at each other for a few awkward seconds, then he nods down at the tray in his hands. Her eyes settle on it for the first time.

_A ceramic plate containing three boiled eggs... And an orange._

Her traitorous stomach growls and she does her best to ignore it, giving him a questioning, dark look.

"Folic acid." He explains, his tone robotic as he offers her the tray. "You need as much as you can get, and it's not like we have access to capsules here. So we do this the old fashioned way for now."

_Is this real life?_

Suspicion fills her eyes as she stares down at the food again.

"The eggs. Where did you get them?"

Teach nods towards the beach, towards the strait and his ship, his jaw clenched hard.

"Straight from my galley. Want me to eat one so you can make sure they're not poisoned, your majesty?"

His voice now sounds bitter, sarcastic and mocking. For a moment, she just glares daggers at him. Her brain tells her to slap that damn tray away, to send it and its contents to the ground. But just as she's about to do that, her stomach growls again, reminding her about something.

She actually misses boiled eggs like crazy. It got to the point she's even  _dreaming_  about it, and she used to eat them almost every day, before they came to this place...

Convincing herself it was  _the baby_  accepting his help, not  _her_ , Eleanor harshly takes the tray from his hands.

There's a very unwelcome twinge of gratitude in her heart, and she does her best to ignore it completely while walking to the shadow of her favorite palm tree. Her jaw clenches as he follows from a distance.

At least she's able to forget about his presence while eating; it feels like paradise to have boiled eggs again after all those weeks since their last visit to the mainland. It's also reassuring. She feels so at peace, knowing she's giving the baby such important nutrients.

But once she's done eating, that presence begins to feel too uncomfortable.

Setting the tray aside, she gets to her feet, staring at their own ship. How she wishes they could be in Phuket right now. Which reminds her, she needs to call Flint and let him know about the change of plans...

"How far along are you?"

Her blood boils. His voice alone is enough to make her want to kill someone.

"11th week. We couldn't pinpoint an exact conception date, so I'm not sure how many days."

"Unwanted pregnancy?"

She shoots him a look filled with venom. "It's none of your fucking business."

He wasn't feeding  _her_. He wasn't caring for  _her_  well being, and she knows that very well. All he wants is to make sure his grandnephew or grandniece will be healthy.

And now that he's ensured that for the day, she can see nothing but hatred in his eyes.

"Must be awful... Having to rely on others. It will only get worse, will it not? As the pregnancy progresses, you will become an  _invalid_  in everyone's eyes. I wonder how you're going to cope with  _that._ "

That was a low blow.

This is actually something she's been thinking about lately. He's hit a sore spot, but there's no way she'll let him get the upper hand here.

"I will receive a wonderful reward at the end of it all. Besides, it will be only temporary. Not something I'll have to endure for the rest of my life. Like guilt."

He'd been examining his dagger, leaning against another palm tree. When she says that last word, he freezes.

"Must be tough... Living with the knowledge that you almost killed your own flesh and blood. Thanks to your own stubbornness. I wonder what  _that_  feels like..."

Slowly, he meets her eyes. She's not intimidated.

"...or how it feels like to be defeated."

His eyes darken with rage and she notices as he grips his dagger tighter. Fearless, Eleanor raises an eyebrow in challenge.

One of her hands moves to her stomach just in case.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Jack making his way out of his and Anne's tent, hands filled with the supplies to make his usual mug of coffee by the campfire. He soon realizes what's going on at the beach, and she's so happy to see him.

After giving the giant a sarcastic half smirk, as if to emphasize a point, she walks away. Jack gives her a disapproving look as she joins him near the campfire, already knowing she'd been teasing her enemy.

"That baby won't stay in there forever, you know."

She shrugs, faking a sweet smile while sitting by his side on the tree log.

"Then let me have my fun while I can."

* * *

**Bavarian Alps**

**08:00 AM**

It still warms her heart. Her hand seems to fit perfectly into his, as if that cliché " _made for each other_ " is actually real.

_Well, she never really stopped believing in fairy tales after all..._

Billy gives her a look as they arrive at a door, and she smiles reassuringly before turning the knob herself. His other hand is busy holding a plate.

They immediately catch sight of the pouty little girl, sitting on her bed and holding her loyal dolphin plushie to her chest. She barely even acknowledges their presence, but when Billy sets the plate on the bed just beside her, some of the aggressiveness fades away from her eyes.

They see the brief ghost of a smile, the corners of her lips twitching up as she looks at the breakfast they put together for her.

Two fried eggs and bacon, arranged to look like a skull and crossbones.

"It's not too cold outside today. We could explore the woods, what do you think? But you need to eat first. We already did." Billy tries, poking her arm softly.

At first, it looks as if she's going to put up a fight. But then she sighs, moving closer to the plate.

It's been tough. Since the moment Davina found out about the baby, she's been cranky and depressed. Anything can make her cry, and she's been isolating herself. It surprised them at first. They were expecting her to become clingy, but it wasn't the case. And they soon understood what she was doing.

Her subconscious must be telling her she's going to be replaced. And it's just basic self-defense; this urge to begin distancing herself from them already, to make things easier later.

It breaks their hearts, and they've been taking turns. Mary stays with her all day, giving her all the attention possible, then the next day Billy and Abigail take over and so on.

_It's their turn today._

Sitting on the other side of the bed, Abigail reaches out to stroke her sister's long hair as the little girl eats. She's still having some trouble with the news herself.

Eleanor, carrying a child?  _Her_  Eleanor? She never, ever thought this would happen.

Seeing her with a baby bump will be so strange. And even though she's ecstatic, she can't help but remember that this little one will be just another everlasting bond between her and Charles.

She's known Eleanor since birth. The blonde has always been just like a big sister to her, so of course, she  _will_  see the baby as her nephew or niece.

Their "family tree" is getting more and more complicated... She wonders how Davina is going to explain it, when she goes back to school in Nassau.

If they can even convince her to do it. They'll try, at least. Charles will have to help.

Just thinking about that name... It sends a shiver down her spine. She can never understand why...

Or why there's a strange pull at the edges of her mind, promising to reveal so much, every single time she thinks about that scary man.

* * *

**Shih Island**

**01:00 PM**

_"You're fucking **kidding**  me."_

Shrugging to herself, she sits down near the edge of the high cliff.

They were busy all morning, discussing strategies with Shih, so she only had time to call Flint now. He was out of his mind with worry, just as she suspected. After all, they were supposed to go meet up with him in Phuket this morning, which never happened.

Her gut had been telling her he wouldn't deal too well with the change of plans, and judging by the way he sounds, she was right about that.

_"You're telling me... That I will be forced to wait here with those men and **Silver**  for three fucking weeks?"_

She frowns, not failing to notice the way his voice changed a little when he said her brother in law's name.

"I don't like this either, okay? All I want is for this to be over, all I want is to sail back home already. I want to see my father and my tavern, and I was eager to have all this bullshit dealt with. But then that bastard showed up here, and even though Charles tried to negotiate our freedom, we were left with no other choice. But you see..." She glances over her shoulder, making sure no one was around to hear what she was going to say next. "...this is actually a good thing. Since we have Teach on our side now, our chances of winning have doubled. He's... a  _good_  ally to have. I admit it."

_"And what exactly is keeping him from putting a bullet through your temple?"_

She swallows hard.

"The child I carry in my womb."

At first, there's nothing but silence from the other side of the line. Then she hears a dry, hesitant laugh.

_"You told him you're pregnant. Brilliant. But what happens when he finds out the truth, hmm?"_

"Dad."

It's only the second time she calls him that, and the word still feels so foreign on her tongue. It's already strange to call Scott  _that_ , but this man...

Still, it was the only way she found to make him understand she was actually serious. The first time she ever called him  _dad_ , she'd been drowning in despair, grief and pain, thinking she might lose Charles at any second. So he knows it would take something pretty extreme for her to say it again.

And of course, his silence lets her know he understood just how serious she is.

"It was an accident. But I'm learning to cope. I'm 11 weeks along, and hey... I have a feeling it's a little boy."

What she wouldn't give to be able to see his face... He's still silent, and she wonders what's going on inside his head right now.

Is he happy? Or maybe the idea of becoming a grandpa, sort of, isn't too appealing to him?

A thousand phrases come to her mind, but she chooses to stay silent too.

For two minutes or so, she just sits there, reflecting about their situation. When Flint clears his throat on the other side of the line, she waits eagerly to hear what he has to say.

_"Well then, I believe congratulations are in order."_

A bright, wide smile breaks out on her face.

She knows him well by now. And what she hears in his tone is enough to erase all the stress from this morning.

_He's happy._

In fact, this is the first time she hears such sincere happiness in his voice. He always sounded empty, depressed, especially in this life...

_Now he sounds alive._

"And let's clear something up. Being a grandpa won't make you any older... Or less badass. At least not in my eyes."

He chuckles, and it only makes her smile even wider.

_"A grandpa. Never thought this would happen to me... But I suppose the little one will need someone to teach him or her about good literature. If we leave that to his or her father..."_

She laughs when he trails off, shaking her head.

She'd been hoping to tell him in person. But he would spend the majority of the next three weeks worrying, fearing Teach might do something to her. It would be cruel.

At least now he knows she's perfectly safe.

_"Speaking of him... How did he react? When we were traveling from LA to the Bahamas together, he told me that kids were out of the question."_

"At first it was tough. I honestly thought he would walk away from me. But now everything's okay."

_"Good. It's good to know I'll get to be by your side when the baby comes... Instead of being out there, chasing after a certain long haired savage."_

She laughs out loud at his "protective dad" tone, and then the awkward silence comes back.

It lasts for maybe 15 seconds, both of them thinking about what just happened. This soft smile never fades away from Eleanor's face.

_"Congratulations to you both. Maybe **this**... is just what we needed. I feel this child will bring us all a lot of happiness..."_  He hesitates for a moment, sighing heavily.  _"All will be well. Soon enough, we will be home, together. The way it's meant to be. I... feel very strongly about the two of you. So take good care of my grandchild."_

With that, he hangs up on her. Her smile widens again.

Basically, he just told her he  _loves_  them... Her and her baby. She knows this is the closest he will get to actually saying the words. For now, at least. But it already means the world to her.

There's still something intriguing.

The way he reacted, when she first told him about the change of plans... She wasn't expecting so much anger.

It's only three more weeks, at  _most_...

Eleanor looks in the direction of Phuket, even though the mainland isn't visible from here. Frowning, she shakes her head.

_Dad, **why**  are you stressing so much about it?_

* * *

**Phuket**

Phone in hand, he laughs, leaning against the wall of a nightclub. The news have caught him completely off guard, like a bus running over an oblivious tourist.

The last time he felt such happiness was when he managed to locate Thomas' family in London, almost three decades ago. When he held Eleanor at the hospital, he was happy too, but the feeling was overshadowed by the recent tragedy he'd lived.

_This is different._

He's going to be a grandpa... Sort of. Scott is, of course,  _way_  more deserving of the title, but he'll be more than happy to share it with him.

A little boy. She has the feeling it's a little boy. Is she right? Or will he see the strange sight of Vane holding a pink bundle in his arms, a few months from now?

Because even though none of them really gives a shit about gender color stereotypes, he knows that Caroline, Idelle and Olivia will spoil the baby sick with pink clothes and blankets, if it's a girl.

Screw the gender. All he knows is that he loves that tiny little thing already, as if it's his own flesh and blood.

_This definitely changes so much... It changes **everything.**_

Instead of getting himself killed in battle, now he wants to survive. He wants to survive in order to hear those soft cries... He wants to survive, so he can feel that small weight in his arms again. To stare at that little face and search for the same freckles Eleanor had as a newborn. To search for her features.

Now he actually wants to  _live_. For the first time in decades.

_He's so curious._

Will the child look more like his little girl, or more like Vane?

What will be his or her personality? How many scares is this little one going to give them, throughout the early years?

Richard really has  _no fucking idea_  how much he's missing out on.

His smile falls.

Caroline mentioned she felt something dark, every time she thought about a child born from these two idiots' love. She felt tragedy lurking in the horizon, and just speaking about it was enough to bring tears to her eyes.

Every time she says there's a storm coming to the island... hours later, it's  _there_. Making the sea violent and sending everyone to the safety of their homes or hotel rooms.

Is she right about this kind of storm too? Will it come? What will it bring?

Shaking his head, he finally puts his phone away.

It's probably nothing... Maybe Eleanor will have a tough delivery, she's so slim, after all... But with all the medical advances, he's sure she'll be okay in the end.

_There will be no tragedy._

And now that the initial joy is beginning to subside, he remembers the current crisis he has in his hands.

He's stuck here for two or three weeks.

Which wouldn't have been so bad, if he hadn't been such an  _idiot_  last night...

The con man is nowhere to be found, and for that, he's grateful. This morning when he woke up, John was gone already, and he hasn't heard from him all morning.

Hopefully it will be like this for the remainder of their stay here. Maybe if he's lucky, that pest is already on his way back to the Bahamas right now.

What happened last night was a mistake.

One that can never be repeated, or even brought up.

_It's a good thing he'll be busy for the next 18 years, helping to raise his grandchild._

* * *

**Lughaya, Somalia**

**10:00 AM**

It's so alarming...

Her poor baby boy is burning up.

It's only the second time he has a fever, ever. And if the first time was so scary already, this feels like hell.

Luckily, she has some baby Tylenol in the diaper bag. But Aiden's temperature is still high, even with the medicine. That's why he's not sleeping in the car seat this morning. She spent the whole night holding him in her arms, sitting in one of the corners of the small room. For a couple of hours, she got some sleep too. But since the moment their captor came in through the door, stinking drunk, she's been struggling to keep her eyes wide open.

He's snoring from the old mattress across the room, and she just hopes he will have a horrible hangover.

Aiden fusses in her arms, big blue eyes fluttering open. He's mumbling already, heartbreaking complaints that only his mother can understand. Tiny fists wrap around the fabric of her shirt, and she tries to keep him quiet.

_If he wakes Low up..._  She doesn't even want to  _think_  about it.

But her little boy is having none of her gentle whispers and soft caresses.

_He's hungry._

Breastfeeding was always one of his favorite moments too. A source of comfort. She knows this is the only thing that can possibly calm him down right now.

After making sure Low was still sound asleep, she carefully undoes the first couple of buttons on her blouse. A little bit of sunlight filters in through a few cracks in the ceiling, allowing Aiden to find her breast as soon as she pulls the maternity bra aside.

She's practically able to hear her own heart drumming. If their captor finds out about this, if he wakes up and sees her breastfeeding without his consent, they're both  _fucked_.

But she has a feeling he'll stay asleep for a few hours longer, considering how loud his snores are, so they'll probably get away with this...

She's noticed it already. Aiden is losing weight. She used to feed him countless times throughout the day, but after they were kidnapped, the story changed a lot. Now he only has the chance to nurse two or three times every day, and this is having a very negative effect on the growing boy.

How easy would it be... To kill that bastard in his sleep right now. But there's nothing she can use, except for the gun and the knife under Low's pillow... And she's not willing to risk waking him up.

Half her attention is still focused on the sounds coming from that sick monster, she's still alert to any changes in his breathing pattern. But her eyes are glued to Aiden's.

He understands what's going on, more or less. He knows this is not her fault. He knows she's not keeping him from nursing because she wants to. He's not angry with her.

_It's a relief._

Stroking his cheek softly, she lets her mind travel to the plan she's been trying to build. She heard Low taking to his guard dog outside a couple of days ago. His searches here in Lughaya have proven unfruitful, so he's planning to move them elsewhere.

It looks like their big chance. She  _knows_  it's their big chance.

One minute of distraction, damn it, one  _second_  of distraction is all she needs.

She will conquer their freedom. Their safety. She survived in those cold Vancouver streets for so many years, all she needs is to recover her instincts. They're dormant; the comfortable life Woodes provided for her is to blame. They're dormant, but they're  _here_. She will connect with them again, she will recover her ability to think and act quickly, to fight when necessary, to  _survive_.

And ensure her baby's safety at the same time.

Those big blue eyes fall closed again a few minutes later, his lips abandoning her breast.

She's so  _thrilled_  that they got away with this.

After making sure her blouse was properly buttoned up again and nothing would give then away, Sarah leans her head back against the wall, holding Aiden closer.

She's not sure when the big day will come. All she knows is that when it does, Low will have a huge,  _unpleasant_  surprise.

* * *

**Shih Island**

**09:30 PM**

When he notices it, his feet have already carried him all the way to the back of the campgrounds.

Standing in front of the largest tent around, he hesitates, staring at the various images decorating the canvas. Did she paint all of them herself?

_Probably_.

Chinese symbols. A few dragons. Birds, strange looking trees. Beautiful blossoming flowers-

_"Come in, Charles."_

He frowns immediately, glancing all around, even if he's sure that the voice came from inside the tent.

The flap is secured, there's no way she saw him.

Just  _how_?

Sighing to himself, he reaches for the ties keeping the flap closed. He should have gotten used to this woman's strange abilities by now.

_And he thought Eleanor's mom was the weird one..._

"What happened?" She asks, as soon as he enters her dimly lit shelter.

"Aren't you the one who holds all the answers to all the questions?"

She raises an eyebrow in warning, though her eyes glint with humor at the same time. She's sitting on her low bed, rubbing some lotion on her legs, and he thanks the heavens that she's wearing her robe.

She doesn't care much for modesty, just like most of the members of this crazy community, and they've all seen her naked body more times than they can count by now.

"Clearly, I don't. We wouldn't be in this mess if that was the case, now, would we?"

He walks over to the low table at the center of the tent when she gestures for him to do so. "What I do know, is that you have something on your mind. Does it concern our new guest?"

Charles shakes his head, sitting down on one of the large pillows in front of the table. He doesn't want her to think he  _cares_  so much, but...

"Where is he?"

The corners of her lips twitch up, but she feigns ignorance. "I'm afraid you will have to be more specific-"

" _Vasyl_. Did he go back to the tree house?"

With a heavy sigh, Madame Shih gets to her feet. "You see, I'm not the only one here who has some... history with your dear uncle. Vasyl is  _not_  coming back. I'm sorry."

For a moment, there's nothing but the chirping of crickets outside. Strangely, he can feel his heart breaking a little.

"He left the island." It's half a question, half a statement, and Shih shrugs.

"I honestly don't know. If he didn't, he will soon. I know it may seem selfish, but he's just trying to ensure his own safety. You have to understand-"

"Why exactly did he leave?" He practically growls out the last word, actually having to bite his tongue in order to keep himself from saying something else.

_Why did he leave **me?**_

He's not sure why the thought even came to his mind.

"Charles, it's complicated. But your uncle hates him to death, he blames Vasyl for something that happened a long time ago... Not that it wasn't his fault, but we all make mistakes. You should know that. And if you hold any consideration for the man who saved Eleanor's life, you will not say a word about this to our new guest. Do you understand?"

She sounds like a mother laying down some rules, and it's frustrating as hell... But he just can't find the strength to antagonize her.

It's almost as if she  _truly_  emanates power sometimes...

So all he can do is nod.

"Good. There's something else. I have no idea whether you will ever cross paths with him again or not, but... I suppose it's impossible that you never find out why he felt the need to run from your uncle. Sooner or later, you will know. And when that day comes, Charles... I urge that you remember what he did. The nightmare he prevented. You have the right to be angry. Just please, remember... to  _remember_."

She smiles at her own words, and he frowns in confusion.

By now, he knows it's useless to try and understand her cryptic messages, but they always end up making sense sooner or later. So he takes this one to heart.

"What exactly did  _you_ do?"

She considers him for a moment, standing there near the bed with that regal posture of hers.

"Are you happy with the way your life is today? With what you have? Rather...  _Who_  you have?"

He doesn't even hesitate.

"Couldn't be happier."

"Then it doesn't matter, what I did. Just know that my actions got you to where you stand today. And to the people you call your family."

With that, she nods towards the tent flap. An invitation for him to get the fuck out.

He must have hit a sore spot.

"Aren't you just a little bit scared? Of Teach?" Charles asks, genuinely curious, just as he's about to walk out of the tent.

This barely perceptible smile comes to the Asian's lips.

"Trust me, son. I have no reason to fear him."

The look on her face resembles the one Eleanor always wore while challenging him, back in their past lives.

With a slight nod, he finally leaves, making sure to secure the flap before walking away. There are still people at the beach and around the campfire; it's relatively early.

But he knows that Eleanor is in their tent, and he's still feeling that strange anguish, brought on by the news of Vasyl's departure. So all he wants is the comfort of her body against his.

Sadly, before he's even halfway to their shelter, a familiar voice stops him in his tracks.

"You'll have what I never could."

His fists clench automatically as he turns around.

He's been keeping his uncle at arm's length, avoiding any sort of conversation, but it seems he has nowhere to run right now. There's this urgent look in Teach's eyes as he faces him, and the giant dares to take a step closer.

"No matter what your demons are. Kill them.  _Burn_  their bodies and throw their ashes to the wind. Just please, treasure this gift as much as you can. Or else you could spend the rest of your life drowning in regret-"

"I'm  _not_  leaving my kid." He seethed through gritted teeth, his heart skipping a beat when he says the last two words. "I'm not leaving him or her like you left  _me_."

At first, Teach seems ready to open his mouth and defend himself, to try and explain his actions once more.

But then guilt fills his eyes and he sighs heavily, silently admitting defeat.

When he speaks again, his voice sounds significantly quieter.

"Do you think you can ever forgive me?"

"I already did. For dumping me in that hellhole as if I was nothing, I mean. But I can  _never_  forgive you for pulling that trigger." His uncle lowers his eyes to the ground upon hearing that phrase. "The woman I love could be dead now, because of  _you_. You wanted to decide how I'd live my life... With whom I'd live it. Do you have any  _fucking_  idea what you almost took from me?"

He meets his eyes again, and this time, Charles is the one who takes a step closer.

Then another, and another.

"There's no redemption. Not ever. No matter what. And here's the only warning you'll ever get..." Stopping right in front of him, Charles lets all the hatred show in his eyes. "After my kid is born, if you even try to harm Eleanor again, if you even  _think_ about it... I swear to whatever God that might be listening; you'll be killed by my own hand."

He knows Teach was already expecting this. Still, his eyes fill with pain and the faintest hint of remorse.

The younger man just stares at his face for a few seconds, analyzing him thoroughly, before finally stepping away from his massive form.

"And I'll know no regret."

Thankfully, Teach doesn't try to follow him.

His blood is boiling as result of the unexpected encounter, adrenaline rushing through his veins. And yet, when he pulls the flap to their shelter aside, all those ill feelings vanish in the blink of an eye.

He's practically able to feel all the anger evaporating, a stupid half smile coming to his lips as he stands there at the entrance of the tent.

She's sleeping on her side, facing him, curled up into a ball. That little blue cap is pressed to her stomach as she holds it safely, her other arm resting under the pillow.

Letting the flap fall closed, he walks over to the bunk and tenderly brushes her hair away from her face.

She's just so beautiful... Even more so, now that she's carrying his child.

_Their_  child.

After undressing as quietly as he could, he climbs into the bunk by her side, gathering her in his arms. He also tries to take the cap from her, but she scowls adorably and holds it tighter.

It makes him chuckle.

She's so protective already, even with a mere item of clothing their baby will wear. He can only imagine what a lioness she will become when the child is born.

She'll probably even have a hard time trusting others. Even Scott will need to insist for a few days, before she'll finally let him hold their little one. He assumes some people will be pissed about that, namely Mary, Idelle and Jack, but they'll just have to be patient. His queen will let them hold the baby sooner or later... Before its 10th birthday, at least.

The thought makes his smile widen, but then it falters a little.

_Will she be like this with him too?_

Will she keep him at arm's length, will she keep him from holding the baby?

Charles frowns, only now realizing it.

He actually  _wants_  this. He wants to hold his child, so fucking  _much_. He wants to know what it feels like, even if he's scared to death. He's scared to hurt it, to stain it, but the urge to feel that tiny, warm body in his arms is already so intense.

So strong. Stronger than the fear.

_A thousand times stronger than the fear._

He just hopes Eleanor will trust him enough to let him near the baby, ever since day one. He doesn't want to miss a thing. To miss a  _day_  of his child's development, like Lorenzo did. Like Richard and the governor did.

He's better than them. He's _so much better_  than them.

It's getting easier and easier to acknowledge and accept that as a truth, a  _fact_.

Swallowing hard, Charles holds his queen closer, deciding to just let her keep the little blue cap.

He'd been hoping to share some intimacy with her, as  _always_ , but this hunger is soon pushed to the back of his mind.

This is enough.

It's  _perfect_ , and it's enough.

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he thinks about the words. If he says it, there's the risk his voice will wake her up, and he doesn't want to disturb her peace. She's pregnant and exhausted.

So he thinks instead of speaking.

_Love you._

After hesitating for a brief moment, he touches her lower abdomen gently, feeling that small, hard, warm thing that couldn't even be called a proper bump yet.

_**Both**  of you._

As Charles drifts off to sleep, his hand never leaves her stomach. In his dreams, it already looks much bigger, round. And he stares in pure amazement as soft, gentle movements keep coming from inside.

His kid's movements.

He can't wait to meet this treasure.

_Their baby._


	64. China Rose

_Author: Okay, this first part might be a little (or maybe very) disturbing to some, so proceed with caution ;) And yes, it was inspired by a scene from LOST._

_._

**Shih Island**

**One week, six days later**

**03:30 AM**

Charles is not by her side when she opens her eyes, sitting up in their bunk. She looks all around the tent, but he's nowhere to be seen. Only then she realizes what woke her up.

There's a baby crying, somewhere out there.

Out of instinct, she glances down at her stomach, only to frown in confusion immediately. The bump had grown considerably over the last week or so, but now it's gone.

_What's wrong?_

Her blood is like ice in her veins as she leaves the tent, seeing a familiar Asian standing by the well near the jungle.

"Madame Shih, do you hear it too? Why is there a newborn on the island?"

She doesn't even look at Eleanor. Her face is blank as she stares at the tents. A sigh leaves her lips and she shakes her head.

"There's nothing I can do, child."

Her confusion only grows and she scoffs at the words.

"Well, then I'll find it myself. Poor thing clearly needs help." She says, the cries becoming louder and prompting her to run into the jungle.

It seems to come from all sides. When she thinks she's close, the sounds become distant again. And her anxiety only grows. Just as she's about to start cursing out in frustration, her body slams against something solid.

Her eyes fill with disgust whilst she takes a couple of steps back, looking up at his massive form.

What the hell is he doing here in the jungle? He should be back on his ship at this hour.

"What's going on in here?" She asks, her voice strained. Teach's eyes are lowered to the ground, she can't see his face.

"You know exactly what's going on in here."

Tears burn in her eyes as the mysterious baby's despair grows.

She  _needs_ to find him. And quick.

"I don't understand. Why is this happening again?"

She's not in control of her own speech, the words leave her mouth on their own accord.

There's the sound of a sword being unsheathed. It comes from above their heads, the wind getting stronger.

"Because he was yours to protect. And you failed him once more."

When he finally raises his head, she doesn't see his eyes. Only two dark holes. All of a sudden, wounds start to open on his face and neck. His clothes rip right before her eyes, and her breath catches as blood pours out of the huge gashes all over his arms and torso.

Turning away from the macabre scene, she runs, almost tripping on the uneven ground.

"Don't fail the next one, Eleanor!" He calls from behind her back, the sound of his voice saying her name so foreign to her ears.

" _Fuck you_!" She yells as loudly as she can, her tone dripping with hatred.

After running for a couple of minutes or so, she slows down again, only to let out a short scream at what crosses her path. The snake that almost killed her, its head hanging to the side, only connected to the rest of the body by a few thin scales. Still, it hisses at her, trying to slither closer.

_Didn't Jack cut its head off completely?_

The sight seems right out of a horror movie, making her want to vomit. She reaches for the nearest tree branch, slamming the creature with it before taking off again. She doesn't run for too long before her ankle gets stuck on something and she falls to the ground, letting out a strangled cry. Her knees hurt like hell, but she hastily gets to her feet.

She's so close. The baby is around here somewhere, so  _fucking close_ -

As she pushes a curtain of leaves aside, ignoring the strange bugs that fall on her hair, she sees it.

That same basket from the nightmare she had weeks ago, before the king cobra accident. Her chest heaves as she makes her way over to it, an unpleasant feeling settling in the pit of her stomach.

The cries are dying down. And she just knows that this isn't a good sign. She drops down on her injured knees beside the basket, the pain getting worse. But she couldn't care less.

Her hands tremble as she digs through the messy blankets, and they bear such resemblance to the sheets she used to share with her ex-husband...

The child is completely quiet. But it's  _here_ , she needs to find-

Her heart leaps to her throat and she freezes as her fingertips make contact with something warm, sticky...  _Liquid_.

The copper smell fills her nostrils, a string of quiet " _no's_ " leaving her lips. When she moves the last blanket out of the way, there it is. A dark puddle, contrasting with the white cushion on the bottom of the basket.

_It can't be - **can't**  be too late._

Tears soak her cheeks as she sinks her hands in the blood, searching desperately.

When she raises them again, small  _guts_  tangled around her fingers, a spine-chilling scream finally leaves her throat.

* * *

"Ma'am! Ma'am, it's alright!"

Anne rushes to Virgil's side immediately, pushing him away from the blonde and grabbing her wrists tightly.

"Cunt, wake up-" She hisses through her teeth, but the other woman just continues to scream and shake her head violently, her eyes squeezed shut. She curses under her breath, trying to yell out for her mentor again while Eleanor's sharp fingernails attack her. "Chas, in here!"

As if on cue, that strange leafy curtain is hastily pulled aside, revealing Jack and Charles' worried faces.  _Desperate_ , would be a better word

"Jesus." The taller man says, rooted to his spot. His leader lets the blades in his hands drop to the ground, quickly crossing the distance to Anne and the hysterical blonde in her arms.

His protégée's face and arms are bleeding a little, but that's the last concern on his mind.

He's never heard Eleanor scream this loud before. It doesn't even sound like her. The yells are filled with such despair, such fear and sorrow, and he feels his heart breaking in half.

_Thank God they found her._

Charles says her name roughly, shaking her shoulders as she tries to fight against his hold too. This causes her eyes to snap open, and all he sees in those beautiful blue green orbs is raw  _horror_.

"It was a nightmare, you were sleepwalking-" He tries to explain, but she looks at a spot above their heads and screams again.

When they look in the same direction, all they see is a large, apparently abandoned beehive.

"They killed him!" She chokes out the words, trembling and burying her face into the crook of Charles' neck. "He's gone!"

"Who's gone, darling?" Jack asks in a soft voice, finally moving to their side. Anne and Virgil stay behind, watching the scene in confusion.

There's noise all around them, the hidden jungle creatures waking up and fleeing, scared by all the commotion.

"My baby!" She sobs, and they're barely able to make out her words. One of her shaky fingers points in the direction of the beehive. "They hanged him! They cut his stomach open, he's  _dead_!"

"Hummingbird, that's a beehive. Please listen to me, the little one is okay. Just look down and see for yourself.  _Please_." Jack knows that if she has a panic attack, they'll have a problem. And he breathes a sigh of relief when she stops sobbing, pulling away from Charles and glancing down at that little project of a baby bump.

Her eyes go to a spot just behind them, and they all see what looks like a small spring. She looks at her hands, noticing they were wet.

"But... The basket. It was  _blood_ , not water, there was-"

"You were sleepwalking." Charles tries to explain again, still holding her safely.

"Gave us quite the scare, darling. Chas woke up and found you gone. We heard you screaming, so we went looking for you. When we found this dead snake along the way, we were very alarmed, so we split up. Then you screamed again, and Anne called out for us. Here we are now."

Still trembling hard, she only finds the strength to hide her face against her criminal's neck again. She's coming back to reality, and it's a relief for all of them.

"Did you fall, sweetheart?" Jack asks, tone laced with concern. She shows no reaction.

"Her knees are bleeding." The words are directed at Charles now, and he presses a quick kiss to the side of Eleanor's head before smoothly sweeping her off her feet.

"It's over now. Let's get you back to camp." He says calmly, as if it's just the two of them in the jungle, before walking away while carrying her bridal style.

The other three share a look, and Jack tries to assess the damage made to Anne's face but she just slaps his hands away. After picking up Charles' forgotten blades, she rushes to catch up to her mentor. She looks like a loyal guard dog, and Jack sighs before smirking at Virgil.

"Never a quiet night."

The former bodyguard scoffs at him as they follow the three from a distance.

"I'd forgotten about it. Trouble just follows you people everywhere you go."

* * *

**Los Angeles**

**01:30 PM**

The sight of that familiar face only irritates him even further, the woman's words causing him to clench his jaw hard.

"I know it wasn't the outcome you were expecting, Sir. But all the evidence we could find leads to this. Sarah was taken against her will. There were witnesses at the port, they saw it when she was dragged out of her car, with the baby. We couldn't find out her captor's identity yet, but... This is now a rescue mission. And you know it."

He slams his fist against the surface of the table, causing her to flinch.

The private investigator considers him in silence for a few moments, wide eyes locked with his.

"P... Perhaps you should consider Mason's idea. I promise it won't be the nightmare you imagine. I will find your son in the meantime, so you can take care of him properly when we bring him back home-"

"I do  _not_  need a mental institution. You find my son. I will search for my wife in the meantime."

She swallows hard, clearly choosing her words carefully. "We just want what's best for you, sir. You seem to have forgotten who's truly important. Chasing after that woman-"

"She has a  _name_!" He barks out the words, grabbing the nearest book he sees and throwing it at the wall. The woman across the table jumps in fright at his behavior. "But you  _forgot_  all about her, didn't you?"

Silence reigns again as the redhead stares at his face, completely horrified. For a moment it's as if she's trying hard to recognize the men, _the boy_ , she once knew.

"I... promised your late father that I would look out for both of you."

Rogers scoffs at the concern in her voice, getting to his feet and walking around the table. Her eyes are filled with fear as he grabs her arm tightly, forcing her to rise from her chair too.

"Look out for your own children. You  _will_ do as you are told, you  _will_  find my son, or else these two little angels of yours will pay the price. Is that what you want?" He shoves her against the door of the office and she shrinks against the wood, cowering in fear.

"Find my child, Mrs. Hudson. Find my child and  _get rid_  of Sarah. I don't care what you have to do, and I  _will_ cover up for you. Meanwhile, I will ensure the safety of someone you once cared about. Everything will be just fine... Do you understand?"

His tone is filled with warning when he asks the question and all she can do is nod weakly, eyes glossy with unshed tears.

He smiles politely at her, opening the door like a gentleman. "Good. Go on now. You have lots to take care of."

She says a quick farewell, rushing out of the office. A heavy sigh leaves his lips as Rogers closes the door, looking at the result of his last rage fit. The windows are broken, bookshelves thrown to the floor. He examines the reports again, and there are no news at all.

Rubbing his forehead, he sinks to the floor, feeling absolutely impotent. Tears soak his cheeks.

He'll be back in the ocean tomorrow.

And she will be back in his arms soon after, safe and sound this time.

* * *

**Shih Island**

**07:30 AM**

Neither of them managed to get any sleep after they came back to the campgrounds. Charles took care of her bruised knees and then they just held each other on the bunk, until dawn.

She refused to talk about what happened, and he didn't try to pressure her either.

When the sun came up, it was an unspoken agreement between them. They needed to pretend nothing had happened, to distract themselves. So they took a basket and headed into the jungle to harvest some fruit.

It's been silent up to this point, but Charles' voice suddenly fills her ears. He's up on a tree branch as she waits below with the basket, and she looks up at him when he speaks.

"Vasyl left. For good."

"I noticed his absence." She hesitates, lowering her eyes back to the ground. "How do you feel about that?"

"He was just a stranger."

She can't hold back her scoff, seeing right through him. But she's too tired to argue about this. Or anything else, for that matter.

"You sure this is okay?" He asks after dropping back to the ground gracefully, nodding at the basket in her hands.

She chuckles weakly, though there's nothing in her eyes. They're just hollow, empty.

"It's not like I'm carrying a basket filled with rocks. I'm  _fine_."

Her voice changes a little when she says that last word and she moves away. He frowns, reaching for her arm and forcing her to face him again.

"What happened?"

There's a strange look in her eyes as she swallows hard.

"I noticed some spotting this morning."

"The fuck is spotting?"

" _Blood_ , alright?" She yanks her arm away from him. "There was some blood on my underwear."

"What does that mean?"

She shrugs, walking over to a bush and trying to distract herself with harvesting some berries.

"It could mean there's something wrong with the baby. But sometimes, it just happens. It wasn't too much, just a couple of drops. Jack said it's nothing to worry about. Unless it gets worse."

"All this stress..." Walking up to her side, Charles runs his knuckles up and down her spine soothingly. "It's not good, is it?"

She lets out a deep, shuddering breath. "Definitely not."

"And you're making it worse." She glares daggers at him, raising an eyebrow in question, and he moves closer. "I see the way you look at Teach. I see how  _tense_  you get whenever he's around... And I also see how you tease him, attacking him with words when you think I won't notice."

Eleanor lowers her eyes to the ground, very uncomfortable that she got caught. He tilts her chin up with his index finger before his knuckles stroke her jawline softly.

"Every time you do it, your anger is awakened. You spend several minutes trying to calm down. Stop for a moment and think about what this does to the kid."

Guilt attacks her and she heaves a sigh, leaning her head into his touch while closing her eyes for a moment.

"Promise not to tease Teach any further, Honeypot."

She can't help but smile at this.

"I promise."

His eyes narrow, the left corner of his lips twitching up.

"Why do I have the feeling you're lying?"

* * *

It's nice to see she hasn't lost her touch.

One look, and all the pirates move out of her way as she walks through the corridors below deck, her sixth sense telling her exactly where to go.

Even though she's never been on this ship before.

When they arrive at a large door, adorned with several gems, the brute at her heels clears his throat before speaking with a heavy accent. "You might want to knock-"

She reaches for the knob, turning it and unceremoniously walking inside the cabin as if she owned it. Jack is standing in front of the desk, talking enthusiastically about their plans. He falls silent almost immediately, looking at her over his shoulder.

She sees  _him_ , sitting on his throne and staring up at the younger man with a bored look on his face. His eyes become somber as soon as he notices her presence too.

"Well, good morning, Madame. How nice of you to join us, we were just discussing-"

"You can leave now." She cuts Jack off, and he frowns at her. For only a moment.

She doesn't need to hold his stare for more than a couple of seconds before he lowers his head and walks out of the cabin, quietly excusing himself.

Tomorrow, they will finally act. Eleanor called their allies in Phuket last night, they will be making their way here once dusk comes.

"Old habits die hard? Would it have killed you to knock first?"

She offers him a smirk, sitting on the chair in front of his desk.

_He's changed a lot._

Those lines on his face are a novelty. She doesn't recognize the few grey strands in his hair and beard either. The fire in his eyes is still there.

"Is everything settled? For tomorrow?" She asks without breaking eye contact for even a second.

His jaw clenches slightly. "Do you want to go over it again?"

The Asian shakes her head, the corners of her lips twitching up.

He will take her to the estate tomorrow, as proof of her "surrender". And after nightfall, the others will attack, following the original plan.

The farmers will be distracted. And Teach will be secretly in contact with the army the whole time, giving them instructions and making sure everything will go well. She's memorized everything. Every step. No need to talk about it again.

No. She came here for a different reason.

"You can't do it alone. Govern this place on your own." The Asian says matter-of-factly, reaching for one of his paperweights. So he still has the habit of collecting these objects.

His eyes follow her hand and he soon grabs her wrist, a bit too roughly to her liking. This brings her attention back to his face.

"What on  _earth_  are you thinking?"

His voice is quiet, but she detects the dark hint of warning in his tone.

"I'm thinking you are going to need a partner. And it's not like you have much of a choice." She tears her wrists out of his grip, leaning back on the chair and smirking as if they were already ruling over this place. "My people can work at the plantations, along with your men. And as for the two of us... We conduct business together. The two greatest in history... What could possibly go wrong?"

His eyes narrow. Everything about his body language screams danger, and she concludes that this is the best time.

Straightening up, she reaches inside her satchel, her fingers easily fetching the letter.

"Do you know what this is?" She asks, tossing the yellowing envelope on the mahogany surface of his desk. He looks down at it briefly. "It's from  _her_ , Edward."

His eyes widen for a split second, taking in that familiar handwriting, then he's reaching for the envelope. The Asian's right hand settles atop his, and she shakes her head.

"Not now. Wait to read it tonight. When you're alone, about to go to sleep. This is such important closure, and you deserve to have it in peace."

" _How_ -" He fumbles with the words, and she notices the glint of tears in his eyes just before he lowers his head. "Where the  _hell_  did you get this?"

"Naomi and I were much closer than you can even begin to imagine. There is a lot that you don't know. It will probably be a shock. But everything you thought you knew is a lie."

He's utterly confused. She can  _feel_  it.

"Why would she lie? I was her  _brother_ , she could tell me anything. If you two were so close, then why the hell did you-"

Heaving a sigh, she lets her thumb stroke his large hand softly. "Remember... the story you have always known is untrue. And everything she did was in order to protect both you and her boy. Which reminds me... She left a letter for him too. He shall have it soon."

She gets to her feet, walking over to the door. When she looks at him over her shoulder, he still has that dumbfounded expression on his face.

"I can help you win back your nephew's good graces."

This brings him back to the real world and he immediately meets her eyes. "How?"

"There's something changing. Sadly. I believe  _someone_  will be in need of your assistance soon. When the time comes... Don't spoil things again. You have your warning."

He frowns at her for a few seconds, then shakes his head slightly.

"It would appear you have gone crazier with age, China rose."

She tries her very best to ignore the little flutter in her heart when that old nickname leaves his lips.

A thousand happy memories flash through her mind. She chooses not to dwell in them, merely offering him a smirk and leaving the cabin in silence.

* * *

"Will you fucking  _stop_  that?"

Anne slaps her hands away again in response, trying to move away from the concerned blonde.

"Worse than Davina. I swear. Your mentor has taught you so well."

The redhead growls in warning when she manages to touch one of the alcohol-soaked cotton balls to her cheek.

"If you don't leave me the fuck alone, I'll give you some matching scratches right now, how 'bout that? My nails are short, but I can use my dagger instead."

Eleanor huffs in annoyance and backs down, resting her hands on her thighs. She's sitting on her knees on the sand, right beside Anne as the redhead lounges in the shadow of the palm tree.

A few minutes earlier, when she realized the damage she'd done to Anne's face and arms during that awful sleepwalking experience, Eleanor immediately felt guilty. She fetched her first aid kit, intent on cleaning up those nasty scratches that still had some dried blood sticking to them, but Anne wasn't too keen on the idea.

"If they become infected, don't come complaining to me."

Anne scoffs at her, just as Jack makes it back to the beach on the rowboat.

"Did you speak to him?" The trip's leader asks, making his way to the palm tree while looking at his best friend.

"I  _tried_. Shih decided to grace us with her presence, and let me tell you something..." He glances at the Revenge over his shoulder, walking over to the tree too. "...wouldn't surprise me if these two moved their conversation to the bed as soon as I left."

Eleanor makes a face, actually shivering in disgust, much to Anne's amusement.

"But everything is settled. Now all we need to think about is the aftermath." Jack insists on offering the pregnant blonde a hand and she rolls her eyes before letting him help her to her feet. The four of them begin the short walk back to the campfire. "Before we even think about the long journey back home, I'll bring Eleanor to the first clinic I can find. We'll schedule an ultrasound scan for the same day, no matter how much money I need to bribe them with, or who I need to threaten, I refuse to have it any other way."

Anne just snorts at his speech, a half smirk coming to her lips.

"Fierce uncle Jack."

He shrugs, opening his mouth to speak again, but Charles' voice cuts him off.

"You won't have to threaten anyone." They all stop, turning around to look at his face. "I'll do it instead."

There's a heavy silence as the three stand there, trying to decode his words. Does he mean what they think he does?

Anne had decided to be present during the first ultrasound a few days ago, her curiosity getting the best of her. But there was nothing but silence from Charles, and they were starting to lose hope.

"Chas?" Jack presses, and they watch as the trio's leader pops some chewing gum into his mouth before finally answering.

"I wanna hear my kid's heartbeat." He looks at Eleanor's face while saying these words, and she immediately feels the burn of tears in her eyes. "I wanna  _see_  him or her."

It was the last blockage. The last wall. And he's just brought it down.

Not even Anne is able to contain her warm smile. "We  _all_  do. And we all will."

Jack nods at her words, even though the other couple is paying them no mind by now. So they decide to just leave them alone near the campfire.

"It's a  _he_." Eleanor says quietly, after closing the distance between them and bringing her arms around his neck.

"What?"

"It's a boy. I just know."

He returns the embrace, resting his chin on the top of her head.

"And you're usually right."

Comfortable silence drags on. They don't pay any attention to the group that walks past them, heading to the sea.

"A little cabin boy then-"

She pulls away, immediately slapping his shoulder hard.

"Don't even  _think_  about it."

* * *

_*****Trigger Warning: Child abuse, violence and mentions of non-con*****_

.

**Lughaya, Somalia**

**04:00 AM**

Slowly, she begins to come back to her senses. The pain is the first thing she notices.

_It didn't work._

Low tried to move them out of this place tonight. For the past few days, Sarah had been working on detaching a loose rock from the wall, whenever he wasn't looking. She succeeded, and the plan was to knock him unconscious as soon as he unlocked the door.

She  _failed_. She failed herself  _and_  her baby.

Her punishment followed swiftly. He violated her body right in front of Aiden, again, but this time she wasn't so lucky. This hell lasted for nearly 15 minutes, and once he was finally done, he slammed her head against the nearest wall, causing her to lose consciousness immediately.

Her son's sobs reach her through the fog in her brain, pulling her back to full awareness in a heartbeat. Nausea takes her over as she struggles to sit up, her head protesting.

Their captor is kneeling in front of the car seat... Holding Aiden's right arm with both hands.

_It's as if the world stops turning._

When that sickening crack echoes through the small room, mixing with Aiden's scream of agony, when Sarah sees her son's wrist bent at a strange angle, when she  _realizes_  what that monster just did to  _her_  baby...

Something inside her just snaps, this primitive fire taking her over.

"Youngest wrist I ever broke. No fun... It was too fragile-"

A guttural yell leaves her throat as Sarah smacks the rock against his head, with a strength she never even knew she possessed.

She'd crossed the room in less than a second, adrenaline coursing through her entire system. Right now, she feels as if she could lift a car with her own bare hands.

When Low's body slumps to the side, hitting the cold concrete floor, her eyes immediately find the knife strapped to his belt.

There's not even a second of hesitation. Not a second of guilt or regret as she grabs the blade and buries it into his stomach over and over again. Blood stains her hands, a few drops flying to her face. She only stops when the urge to comfort her son becomes stronger than her thirst for revenge.

A broken sob escapes her lips. She lets the bloodied knife fall to the floor. Low's blood stains Aiden's shirt as she picks him up, mindful of his broken wrist.

The door is still unlocked. Her breathing is heavy and she grabs the diaper bag, her other arm supporting Aiden's weight.

Stopping at the door, Sarah turns around, taking one last look at Low's still form. She doesn't get to see whether he's still breathing or not. Even though there are tears running down her cheeks, she lets out a weak laugh, kissing her son's soft hair.

_She did it._

Without Woodes, without Mason, without  _anyone_. She just saved her baby  _and_ herself.

_They're free._

Maybe she should have locked the door from the outside, just in case. But the mere thought of taking a single step closer to Low's body, in order to retrieve the key, was too much.

As she runs through the dark, empty streets, Aiden's cries echoing in the night, her brain is already working at full speed. They're free, but in a very hostile environment. She needs help. Shelter. Medical care. But the worst is behind them, at last.

_And now she just needs to find Eleanor._

* * *

**Phuket**

**05:30 PM**

His posture is stiff and majestic as he stands just beside the gangway, making sure all the men were here. Their time in this colorful place has come to an end, and they're about to weigh anchor.

No guide will be needed. The shady woman in charge of the community had given Eleanor the exact coordinates yesterday when she called him, and once they find the island, it will be easy to find the bay. There will be a grand ship guarding it, after all.

Taking one last look at the harbor, he fights against the urge to sigh. That pest has definitely left them. He must be back home by now already.

But this is a good thing. A very good thing.

_After what happened..._

Banishing those thoughts from his mind, he turns around. He's about to start giving orders when-

"Leaving without me, now  _that's_  very considerate of you all."

His jaw clenches automatically and he doesn't move, even as the entire crew celebrates the con man's unexpected arrival.

But once he boards the yacht, it's impossible to avoid him.

Keeping his face as neutral as he possibly can, Flint finally turns back around.

Their eyes meet. And it's like an unspoken agreement is sealed between them, just like that.

John's eyes are haunted too. But it's clear that he's not willing to go down  _that_  road anytime soon either.

Forcing a smirk, he gestures around the yacht, speaking loud enough for all of the men to hear.

"Don't look at me like that. A man decides to indulge in the famous Phuket nightlife for more than 10 days straight, and you'll already judge him?"

His words cause the crew to laugh, and Flint can't help but smirk at his excuse. He's ensuring no one here will suspect a thing, for both their sakes.

_He's actually grateful for that._

"A freaky island, a war, crazy Spaniards... Talk about nostalgia." The con man trails off, his voice now much quieter. Just for the two of them to hear. "What, you  _really_  thought I'd sit this one out?"

He can't help but chuckle quietly.

There's this awkward atmosphere. But they're both willing to ignore it. Overcome it.

Just before he walks away, John nods at him, some seriousness returning to his eyes. "Let's go give them hell."

Flint nods back, then his attention is focused on the ocean ahead.

He won't leave that place without  _them_. The woman he's learned to  _love_  as his own flesh and blood, and the little treasure she carries. He can do this.

He can make  _him_  proud...

And he's coming for his little girl.

* * *

**Shih Island**

**05:45 PM**

Fearless, she strides out into the beach, going all the way over to the water. She can feel Teach's eyes on her for the fraction of a second as she stops just beside his massive form.

"Is he still in there?" Her voice sounds too icy, even to her own ears. Her eyes never leave the huge ship blocking the strait.

"He is."

"I demand that you move him to my own ship, before you leave tomorrow."

He scoffs, causing Eleanor to finally look at his face.

"You demand  _nothing_. Javier is under  _my_  control. I decide what will become of him."

Feeling as if his words just stoked a fire inside her, she faces him fully, her eyes burning with rage. Jack notices their exchange, immediately rising from his spot near his tent and rushing to the beach too.

"I have a score to settle with that  _thing_. So I suggest you hand him over to us, unless you want to become the target of my anger instead, you  _piece of shit_ -"

"Now now. Let's just...  _Not_  do this right now, okay? Darling, let's go. You need to eat something." Jack keeps his voice as calm as possible, grabbing a firm hold of her shoulders just in case.

"I see your current...  _fragile_  state did nothing to soothe your appetite for blood and petty revenge."

Temper flaring, she surges forward, trying to fight her way out of Jack's steel like hold. "As if you're one to talk, you fucking  _asshole_!"

She doesn't bother keeping her voice quiet at all. This attracts the attention of the community, some of them stopping their chores and coming closer to the beach.

"I don't know what that crazy fool did to you. I do not  _care_. But you're not getting your claws on him..." Teach moves closer to her, this cruel smirk tugging at his lips. "...so just retire to the safety of your tent now, and lick your wounds quietly as the  _invalid_ you are."

_That does it._

Eleanor is not sure how she does it, but in a heartbeat, she's free from Jack's grip.

She needs to stand on her tiptoes, but her right fist connects with her enemy's face. The feeling of that rough beard against the side of her hand sends a shudder down her spine.

Anne has taught her how to hit. So of course, the blow is very effective.

Seeing that giant stumble backwards with the strength of her attack... It awakens something primitive, deep inside her.

She wants more. So much more.

For a second, there's nothing but silence. The surprised crowd gapes at the scene. This thin woman, not only punching a bear sized man in the face, but also making him  _stumble_  from the blow...

She  _needs_  more.

Jack's pleas go in through one ear and out the other as she surges forward again, attacking Teach repeatedly, ignoring the growing pain on her knuckles.

He keeps moving backwards, trying to avoid her vicious punches, until his patience snaps. She can't help but let out a strangled cry when he grabs her wrists in the air, harshly. For a second, Eleanor could swear she'd heard her own bones cracking.

_Like a twig snapping-_

Before she can even think of a strategy to get out of this situation, there's a flash of tanned skin and dark hair.

_Shit_.

"Let her go.  _Now_."

His rough voice holds something bestial to it. Animalistic. Her chest heaves as nephew and uncle stare at each other in a silent challenge.

Until Charles pulls out the Kournikov dagger.

She knows he wouldn't hesitate to use it. Apparently, Teach knows it too.

Defeat flashes in his eyes and he releases her wrists. There's blood trailing down his chin, staining his beard. His lower lip is busted, the skin around his left eye already changing color and swelling. Some blood oozes out of his nostrils too.

Seeing this, Eleanor starts to laugh out loud in triumph, eyes locked with his. It clearly takes him all of his willpower not to tear her to pieces right here, right now, as she openly mocks him in front of everyone.

However, her laughter dies down when Charles turns around to look at her face.

She's not sure when was the last time he directed this look at her. Such rage. Such hatred and  _darkness_.

"Tent."

She barely understands the word. His voice is more like a savage growl and she hisses in pain as he grabs her arm tightly, leading her all the way to their shelter. The crowd parts, no one daring to stand in his way. Virgil clenches his jaw, she thinks he will intervene for a moment, but in the end, he stays put.

As soon as the flap falls closed behind them, he  _shoves_  her in the direction of the bunk.

"I  _swear to God_ , if you weren't pregnant right now..."

Her knuckles are bleeding. But the pain is nothing, and his words bring the most intense wave of hatred crashing over her.

Straightening up, Eleanor glares at him darkly.

"What? What would you do? Hit me?" She scoffs, fearlessly closing the distance to him. "Yes, you'd have no problem with that, huh? You're such a fucking  _savage_ , do you know that?"

"Better a  _savage_ , than an untrustworthy  _snake_."

If he wants to throw some past drama in her face, oh, but she'll repay him in the same coin.

The words come to the tip of her tongue. For a second, she actually debates with herself whether or not to let them out. It's not like she means them... It's not as if she even likes what she's about to say. It  _disgusts_ her to her core and she  _will_  regret it so deeply.

But all she wants right now is to hurt him. And there's no better way to do so.

"You see... Throughout our entire time together, in the past..." She stops, her face mere inches from his. "Woodes  _never_ laid a single finger on me."

This intense sorrow flickers in his eyes. Her heart breaks in half. He lets out a low growl, hands going to her arms.

And then two people burst into their tent.

"Get the  _fuck_  away from her." Anne hisses through her teeth, harshly pushing her mentor away from Eleanor and putting her dagger to his throat. Meanwhile, Jack grabs a gentle hold of the blonde's shoulders, pulling her towards the flap.

"You got him?" Anne just nods, her eyes not leaving Charles' for even a split second. "If you need, just...  _Yell_."

He hesitates for a moment, sighing heavily and pulling Eleanor along. "Come on, love. Let's take care of these knuckles of yours, and get you calmed down."

Charles tries to go after them when they leave, the sudden movement actually causing Anne's blade to cut through his skin. It's superficial, and nothing to worry about, but he still backs down.

She guards the only way out of the tent, watching as he paced around the small space like a caged lion. Danger is still present for now, she needs to be ready for anything-

When he kicks one of the suitcases hard, sending its contents to the ground, she finally relaxes.

She knows her brother well. Because she knows  _herself_.

He's choosing to take his anger out on inanimate objects. Which means he's under control.

After a few moments, when he's done assaulting the suitcase, she decides that it's safe to speak.

"Jack said he tried to deny her the right... The right to kill her murderer. He doesn't wanna hand Javier over to us. That's why she did it."

He's shaking in anger, sitting down on the bunk. When he meets her eyes, the tough look on Anne's face fades away immediately.

_The amount of pain she's seeing in his eyes..._

Frowning to herself, she rushes to the bunk, ending up on her knees before him. "What is it?"

He shakes his head, and she waits patiently. "She doesn't think he's the better man..."

_Was that a question? Or a statement?_

" _What_  did she say to you?"

"He never laid a finger on her. In the past."

Anne scoffs at him, as if he'd just said the most absurd thing in the world.

"Well he did it in this life. When he held her captive in the mansion? He also tried to  _rape_ her soon after. Slammed her head 'gainst the car and everythin'. Cause he wanted to show how superior he was." Her jaw clenches. Even though she actually got to beat the shit out of that bastard, when she saved Eleanor from him, her hands itch to punch that snob face again.

"And you hit her  _once,_  to show her that she was your equal. You could have  _humiliated_  her that night. In front of all those people. You chose not to. And we did notice you went after her, to check if she was okay.  _Pathetic_  if you ask me."

He meets her eyes again. She hesitates for a moment before reaching for his face with both hands.

"You are my  _brother_. And you'll always be the better man. I know she'll say that herself... Once she calms down."

He studies her face for a few seconds. Then his eyes fall closed and he lets his head drop again.

She stays there, holding on to his shoulders the whole time.

* * *

Crickets chirp outside.

The paper lanterns create a soft, comforting glow.

He doesn't even flinch as Ching brings the rag to his face again, cleaning the wound on his lip carefully. His eyes don't leave her perfect face, the smell of alcohol filling his nostrils.

_She's hardly even aged._

"You weren't guilty, were you? For my sister's death."

She stops what she's doing. Something that resembles sorrow fills her eyes.

"Have you read the letter?"

"Not yet."

Nodding to herself, she goes back to tending to his wounds. "It will all make sense soon. I promise you. I think... you should wait until this upcoming war is behind us."

He sighs heavily. Silence drags on until she puts her supplies away. When she tries to move away from the low bed, he grabs her wrist.

"What you said earlier... She's the one who will need my assistance, isn't that right?  _Eleanor_." The Asian swallows hard, giving in and settling on the mattress, right beside him. "What's going to happen, Ching?"

"Soon, Edward...  _Soon_. I just hope you will do the right thing. If you don't..." She squeezes his hand. He catches the faint hint of despair in her voice.

When she meets his eyes, he's taken aback at the almost pleading look on her delicate face.

"...then God help us all."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you say "drama"? ;)


	65. Fate

_Hey! So... Please don't kill me after you read this chapter, okay?_

_._

**Shih Island**

**07:30 AM**

The unfamiliar bunk beneath her creaks as she brings her feet to the dirt ground.

Apparently, Jack had been in alert mode even while sleeping, since he also sits up in the hammock as soon as she moves. They don't say a word to each other and she gets to her feet, leaving the tent to begin the short trip to the shed that serves as a community restroom.

When she comes back, Jack finally smiles at her despite the tense atmosphere.

After the fight yesterday, she never went back to her and Charles' tent, deciding to stay here with Jack instead. Anne never returned here either, so she assumes the redhead decided to stay with her mentor for the night.

These two have probably earned their place in heaven, just for dealing with her and Charles. All the drama, all the fights,  _everything_...

"Yesterday, you told me that if the spotting stops it's nothing to worry about. What if it doesn't? What if it gets worse?"

Jack's reassuring smile falls immediately, concern filling his eyes. "Did it?"

She blinks, then shakes her head and looks away from his face. "No. It was only those two drops of blood. I was just curious."

"Spotting could be one of the early signs of a miscarriage. But since it stopped, we have nothing to worry about.  _Our_  baby is okay."

She meets his eyes again when he says that, forcing a brief, weak smile. Just as she's turning around to leave again, he gets to his feet.

"Do you want me to accompany you to the springs?"

"Not you, not anybody."

"But-"

"For fuck's sake,  _no_!"

He frowns, and she mentally kicks herself for the outburst. After everything this man has been doing for her lately... the last person in this island who deserves her anger is him.

"Are you  _really_  okay?"

"I'm  _fine_."

Thankfully, he doesn't follow her when she leaves again. Her eyes go to the neighboring tent, and she sighs heavily before heading off to the springs.

* * *

"You got an email." His fingers tighten around the spyglass as that voice fills his ears. "It's from Travis..."

Turning around harshly, he snatches his phone away from John's hand. The con man smirks, nodding at the device.

"Is everything okay over there? The institution in London?"

His eyes skim over the contents of the email and he nods slowly. Yes, he was already expecting Travis to ask about this.

"He's concerned about the latest donation, thinking there was some sort of mistake."

"How much did you give him, exactly?"

"400.000 pounds."

The younger man's eyes go wide, and for once, he's absolutely speechless. It's a nice change.

Flint just shrugs dismissively, setting his phone aside and bringing the spyglass to his face again. He's watching the island closely, but that huge sailing ship blocks his view of the bay. The only thing he can really see is a hill, looming right beside the spot where the campgrounds are supposed to be located.

"It's nothing, compared to the profit I get from the cruise ship every year."

"Things have changed a lot, haven't they?"

"Not everything."

He glances at John again, meeting his eyes for a brief moment. The corners of his lips twitch up. "You're still a thorn in my side."

The con man scoffs, and silence reigns for a while longer as Flint tries to see any members from the community. It's useless.

"that huge donation... So you really were determined to get yourself killed."

"' _Were_ '?"

He knows it's useless to keep the facade up, John has already noticed he gave up on the original plan. But still.

"What changed?"

A scowl comes to his face and he hesitates. As the younger man brings a water bottle up to his lips, he sighs heavily.

"Eleanor is expecting a baby."

Just as he expected, John chokes on the water, coughing a couple of times before laughing drily.

"Eleanor?  _Your_  Eleanor? The one who stood up to the most savage men in the Caribbean, the one who would betray even the shadiest individuals and never look back,  _that_ Eleanor?"

Flint rolls his eyes at the reaction, finally giving up and lowering the spyglass. Unless his girl decides to go up on that hill, there's no way he'll see her before nightfall.

"Well, is it Vane's?"

He shoots him a glare of warning. "Of  _course_  it's his."

"Just asking. I know loyalty isn't a strong trait of hers so-"

He wisely interrupts his own speech as Flint's eyes darken.

And then, all of a sudden, he's bent over in laughter.

With a bored look on his face, the older man watches him until he calms down.

"What's so funny?"

"You're so screwed."

He raises an eyebrow in question, already he wouldn't like whatever was coming next.

"The grandpa jokes? You will  _never_  hear the end of them."

His eyes narrow. In the end, the ghost of a smirk comes to his lips.

"Get the hell out."

John nods down at his phone before leaving him alone in the bridge. "Tell Travis I said hi."

As he leaves, Flint's face becomes completely serious again. His eyes go to the phone resting on the control panel, and he frowns to himself.

He never replied a single email.

It's been over ten years of Travis trying to contact him, and he never ever let him.

There's so much changing lately. It feels like the beginning of a new era. So  _maybe_...

_"I'm aware you never answer me. I need to ask, however..."_

His eyes soften as he reads the rest of the email again.

Then again and again.

_Something about the words..._

After hesitating for a long while, his index finger touches the reply button for the first time ever.

_"There was no mistake. Take all the kids on an educational trip somewhere, please. Next month's amount will be donated by the 20th as usual."_

He stalls, fingers hovering over the sreen.

_"I would like to receive news on how they are doing. Send them my regards. I believe I will go meet you all soon."_

Strangely, his heart skips a beat as he finally sends the reply.

The peace he feels is so foreign, but not at all unwelcome.

* * *

She's barely awake when somebody stirs right beside her. As usual, her automatic response to that is to groan and elbow him in the ribs for disturbing her peace.

After that, she usually rolls over to get a few more minutes of sleep. But this time, her arm makes contact with warm, solid muscles that weren't supposed to be there, and she frowns in confusion before remembering where she is.

Her mentor is just waking up too, rubbing his eyes as she looks at him over her shoulder. They drank last night, and ended up crashing here on the bunk after all that stress.

Mumbling a quick apology for hitting him, Anne sits up and stretches as best as she can, glancing at the flap. "What time is it?"

He just shrugs, bringing an arm up to his face. A clear sign he would just go back to sleep, and that he couldn't care less about whether she'd decide to stay or go back to Jack and her own tent.

_She really wants to check up on Eleanor, so..._

Just as she's about to crawl over his body and leave, there's a sudden blare coming from outside. Immediately, Charles is wide awake, jumping to his feet. She follows him as he rushes out of the tent.

It's chaos outside, everyone retreating to their respective shelters.

The alarm. The one that is supposed to alert them about jaguars. This is the first time it ever goes off.

Their blood runs cold when Jack bursts out of the neighboring tent, looking all around.

_Alone_.

"Eleanor-" He begins as soon as his eyes settle on them. Carly rushes to his side.

" _Where_  is she?!" Charles barks out the words, causing his best friend to glance back in the direction of the jungle.

"She went to the springs."

Mentor and protégée jump into action, making their way to the back of the campgrounds with sure, purposeful steps. Jack actually follows them, not paying any attention to the teenage girl for once.

"I-I tried to go with her, but she wouldn't let-"

"Stay here." Charles says without even looking at him before disappearing into the jungle, the redhead following him loyally.

Whether the jaguar is still around or not, they're both fearless. And as soon as they reach the springs, they see her.

She's still wet, dressed only from the waist down. Her eyes are wide when she looks up at them, probably expecting the creature. She must have heard the alarm too.

There's a rustling sound from the jungle and the three of them look over at a few lush bushes on the other side of the spring, at the same time.

Eleanor lets out a choked gasp.

Two. There are  _two_  of them.

One adult, one cub. Charles and Anne immediately recognize it as one of the babies they found months ago. It grew considerably but they assume it poses no real threat for now.

_The mother, however..._

He doesn't even need to meet the redhead's eyes. She knows exactly what he wants to do, and as soon as he begins to approach the bushes slowly, she crosses the short distance to Eleanor.

Pulling the blonde behind her body, she watches her mentor in silence, ready to intervene and help him if the mother decided to attack.

He stands there, right in front of the jaguars, for almost three minutes. Tall, proud, but not menacing. His body language lacks any aggressiveness and he stares right into the mother's eyes all the time, never looking away. Eleanor just wants to know what he's doing, but she doesn't dare to make a sound. Both women are tense, the air around them thick and heavy. Every second seems to last an eternity.

A smirk tugs at Anne's lips, the blonde behind her letting out a sigh of relief, when the creatures finally retreat.

"Jaguar whisperer? That's a new one." The redhead chuckles, but there's no humor at all in Charles' eyes as he turns around to face them.

"He must be around five months old today. She was probably teaching him to hunt, saw humans as easy prey. She also knew where to find us. But then they got spooked by the alarm and she decided to come here instead. Following the  _stray sheep's_  scent." He meets Eleanor's eyes while saying the last three words. She doesn't look away.

He'd been expecting to find that look of defiance and disdain on her face, the one she always has during the time between one of their fights and reconciliation.

There's no hatred or rage in her eyes. And for the first time in forever, he just can't decode her.

Anguish. Such deep sorrow.  _Fear_ , even though the danger has passed.

The way she's looking at him seems like a silent cry for help. As if she just wants him to hold her in his arms right now. As if she's going through a battle he's not aware of.

All he wants is to answer that unspoken request. To hold her close and comfort her, even though he has no idea what's going on with her.

_Woodes **never**  laid a single finger on me._

His jaw clenches and he looks away from her face.

"We need to warn Shih."

Anne nods at him and he wordlessly tells her to take care of Eleanor. His eyes linger on the blonde's face again, for a brief second, then on the baby bump.

Before she can gather the courage to say anything, he's walking away.

While Anne grabs her shirt and bikini top from the ground, Eleanor is just on the verge of tears.

If the redhead notices, she probably decides not to pry.

* * *

**Africa**

**05:30 AM**

By now, she's not even sure if they're still in Somalia.

The city had been under a terrorist attack, that much was obvious. Escaping unharmed was a tough quest, but she managed.

It wasn't too long before Sarah found herself in the desert, the heat punishing both her and Aiden mercilessly as the day progressed. When night came, things changed drastically.

It felt as if she was actually back in Vancouver during the winter.

She found this little spot, surrounded by rocks. It seemed safe enough, so that's where she decided to stop. She needed some rest desperately.

Her poor baby has no tears left to cry. For a few hours, he kept screaming at the top of his lungs, probably from the pain in his wrist. She was terrified, thinking it might attract predators. So when exhaustion won and Aiden fell asleep, it was a huge relief.

Now the sun is coming up, and she didn't even keep her eyes closed for more than a few seconds, throughout the entire night. Her arms feel dormant after supporting the 11 month old's weight for 12 hours straight. But she doesn't give a damn.

Touching the mess on her son's wrist, she heaves a sigh.

She'd managed to make a rudimentary splint soon after they left the dangerous town yesterday, with a piece of wood and her own ripped shirt. At least it keeps Aiden from moving his arm too much.

Leaning back against one of the rocks, Sarah holds her baby closer.

She has no idea where they are right now. And she knows she needs to find the ocean. The ports.

_The Ranger._

In her haste to escape that battlefield, she failed to pay attention to her surroundings and situate herself...

There's a faint sound reaching her ears all of a sudden, and she freezes. It sounds almost like footsteps... the heaviest,  _strongest_  footsteps she's ever heard in her life, but still...

Gathering her courage, she moves, peeking her head out of their hiding spot.

Her heart skips a beat, and she can't help but smile while watching the majestic creatures.

They're huge, even from afar.

She can see their tusks perfectly, the precious ivory that attracts heartless hunters from all over the world.

There are five of them. Soon, the trumpets begin. Even though they're not close to the elephants, the roars are still loud enough to startle Aiden awake. He pouts, letting out a whine, but she's quick to reassure him.

It had been a huge dream of hers for so long. Seeing those animals in person. Now it's happening, suddenly, and it's perfect. It gives her  _hope_.

Aiden coos to himself, raising his good arm and pointing at the elephants in awe. She chuckles at this, kissing the top of his head. The rising sun begins to chase the cold away almost immediately, and she loses track of time. Her chin rests on the top of Aiden's head, a wide smile refusing to leave her lips.

How she wishes they could get a little closer... But Sarah knows that these animals can get violent if they feel threatened, so she ignores that urge.

This moment feels perfect. Like a gift.

But of course, the peace is short lived.

Out of the corner of her eye, she notices some movement.

The lion came out of nowhere. It's just a few feet away from their hiding spot, and it's watching the elephants intently.

It's a young male, somewhat skinny and surely hungry. It's probably considering the possibility of attacking the elephants, but of course, that would be just too risky.

Sarah covers Aiden's mouth, doing her best to stay silent.

But the predator soon catches their scent in the air.

When the lion turns his head, meeting her eyes, a lone tear runs down her cheek.

That's it. She  _failed_ , in the end.

Closing her eyes, she drops one last kiss to the top of her son's head.

"Baby, I'm sorry-"

A gunshot resounds all around them and she jumps, her eyes snapping open just in time for her to see the lion running away.

_Perfectly safe and unharmed._

Even the elephants retreat and she swallows hard before looking over her shoulder.

Aiden cries loudly in her arms, terrified of the loud noise, as she stares up at their savior.

Woodes' voice echoes in her head.

_"Their souls are as dark as their skin. We should never trust these people. They're bitter... Their hatred for our kind is rooted deep inside their minds."_

He'd said that during their honeymoon trip, after he snapped at her for befriending a black woman at the hotel pool.

She couldn't understand. It was the first time he ever treated her so harshly, and she got so scared at first. But when night came and they got into the jacuzzi together, back in their private suite, he apologized and explained himself.

And she saw no other option.

That night, in that fancy Hawaiian hotel, he turned her into a damn racist. Today, thanks to  _him_ , she's in the middle of the desert, holding her injured son, and if it wasn't for the man looming in front of her, they'd both be dead by now.

Thanks to this human being, with skin as dark as the ocean at night, they're not.

Staring into his eyes, Sarah frowns, ignoring Aiden's screams.

_...their hatred for our kind..._

She sees no hatred.

Just the will to help a vulnerable woman and her baby.

The mysterious man extends his free hand, causing her to flinch a little. His fingers are bony, she suspects he's in his late fifties, and despite the rifle he's holding, his face is gentle.

_All these years of brainwashing..._

Her hand trembles as she grasps the skinny fingers. Their savior smiles warmly, helping her to her feet with surprising strength.

The sun has officially risen as he guides her away, and Sarah finally feels safe.

* * *

**01:00 PM**

There she is.

The corners of his lips twitch up. The first thing he searches for is a baby bump. But he's seeing her through a spyglass, so his attempt fails. He'd been watching the island since dawn, and now she finally appeared atop the hill, holding a spyglass too.

Here they are, watching each other from afar like two idiots, but he's just so happy to see her alive.

She raises her hand, waving at him, and he does the same from the yacht.

When she lowers her spyglass, revealing her face, Flint frowns to himself.

The look in her eyes... Such melancholy.

_What's going on with his little girl?_

* * *

He can still see her. He can see the lone tear that trails down her cheek. But she doesn't care.

At this point, she doesn't give a shit about her dignity or reputation. They're not important, compared to what she's going through-

As soon as she hears the footsteps, making their way up the rudimentary stairs, Eleanor knows exactly who they belong to.

"Flint is in position. Everything is ready for tonight." She wipes the tear away as discreetly as possible before turning around to face him. "He should be here in a couple of hours."

Standing there, Charles considers her for a few seconds. He probably noticed she'd been crying, despite her best efforts to hide.

"Good. We're just waiting for my uncle to take Shih to the estate. Then we'll start to dig out the guns."

She nods weakly. Then the tears come back and before she can catch herself, she's closing the distance between them.

Her arms go around his neck and she hides her face against the skin of his left shoulder, letting out a shuddering breath.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I compared you to him  _again_."

There's a frown on his face as he pulls her away from his body. His eyes question her unlikely behavior silently, but he doesn't try to resist when she leans in again, pressing her lips to his.

Flint is probably still watching them with the spyglass, but it doesn't really matter.

"What's going on with you?" The question comes as soon as she breaks the kiss, and she shakes her head.

Her tears are flowing by now.

"I just really  _needed_ -"

A choked sob cuts her off, causing him to scowl in concern and grab a gentle hold of her face.

.

_This isn't like her at all._

Charles can't believe she's doing this. He can't believe she's backing down and apologizing first.

He knows she's doing it out of despair. Clearly, she's in dire need of  _him_  right now, of the comfort only  _he_  can offer.

_Why?_

And what about the tears?

A grimace comes to her face. Although she's quick to mask it, he still notices.

_Is she in pain?_

He tries to wipe her tears away uselessly, soon giving up and stroking her jawline gently instead as she stares into his eyes.

She's  _definitely_  in some sort of pain...

"What's wrong?" He asks, his voice uncharacteristically soft. A heartbreaking sob leaves her lips.

"I just-"

The blaring alarm resounds all around them again, causing her to jump. Any other words she might have said die in her throat and their focus moves to the campgrounds below just like that.

"You've gotta be kidding me."

Eleanor scoffs, and it seems she's suddenly back to normal. In fact, she's the one who grabs his hand, leading the way to the stairs.

"It seems there's something else you will need to take care of, before we can finally put our plans into motion."

She's completely back to her normal, bossy self now. And even though he's still worried about that sudden breakdown of hers, Charles knows she won't share the source of her anguish with him just yet.

Sure enough, the members of the community are in frenzy again when they reach the campgrounds. Most of them are rushing to the -  _relative_  - safety of their tents, except for the bodyguard, Anne, that teenage girl, Shih and a very exasperated Jack.

"Anne said I can go!" Carly declares, crossing her arms over her chest, and Jack shares a quick look with the redhead before shaking his head.

"Absolutely  _not_. They got this. Wherever those jaguars are-"

"What's going on?" Eleanor cuts him off, just as the two of them reach the small group.

"This young lady wants to go face the jaguars with the big kids, that's what's going on, hummingbird."

"Anne said-"

" _No_." Charles states firmly, causing the teen to fall silent immediately. She swallows hard while meeting his eyes, and he feels a pang in his chest.

When was the last time he used that tone?

It's the same voice he uses whenever he needs to be stern with Davina...

_God, how he misses her._

"No. After we're done with this mess, once we're settled back home, Anne and I will teach you how to fight, if that's what you want. But right now, today, you stick to boring and safe. Got it?"

She sighs heavily, nodding her head before meeting Jack's eyes. He raises an eyebrow, giving her shoulder a gentle shove and encouraging her to go inside his and Anne's tent. Luckily, she obeys.

"You need to make sure the jaguars go back to their domain. When the night comes, when you make your way to the estate, the last setback we need is those beasts attacking the army."

Charles nods at Shih's words, walking over to the shed in order to retrieve some of the spears.

"Safety measure, I hope? Remember that killing them is out of the question... Unless it's your last option and your life is in danger."

"We don't wanna harm them either." Anne is quick to reassure the Asian, just as a new person arrives from the beach.

Charles glares daggers at his uncle, his voice filled with warning when he speaks.

"Wait for us to come back before you take her to the estate. You better protect this camp, protect  _her_ -" He points at Eleanor over his shoulder, his eyes never leaving Teach's. "-in my absence, as if your life depends on it. And if you lay a finger on her..."

"She carries precious cargo." Is his simple statement, and Eleanor can't help but scoff at his words.

For some reason, that's  _all_  she does.

She doesn't try to say anything, to attack him in any way.

It's almost as if... She's scared. Is it even possible?

Besides,  _why_  should she be scared?

Just as Anne, Virgil and three other members of the crew are ready to go into the jungle, Charles stalls, coming back to stand right in front of his queen.

"Whatever comes our way, I will keep you safe." Hesitantly, he brings his hand to her stomach. Right here, in plain daylight... Away from the safety of their tent. For  _everyone_  to see.

A lone tear runs down her cheek as his thumb strokes that little bump.

" _Both_  of you."

Squeezing her eyes shut, Eleanor steps away from him. He frowns at that, his hand now touching nothing at all. She wraps her arms around herself, around her stomach, as if wanting to hide something from him.

"Go now." The quiet order escapes her lips, only loud enough for him to hear it.

And he dares not disobey her.

As he turns around, walking away to join the small group near the jungle, Charles doesn't get to see her conflicted face. He doesn't see the way she storms over to the beach, her shoulder bumping hard against Teach's.

He doesn't get to see the tears soaking her cheeks.

* * *

**Nassau, Bahamas**

**02:00**

_She loves these nights so much._

Fifth date. It's their fifth date already and she can't believe it. She can't believe how perfect this man is. The time she spends in Elijah's company is almost enough to make her forget Richard...

Stealing a glance at his profile, Caroline can't help but smile.

He's so handsome. His features so unique. He's smiling too, the ocean breeze caressing their cheeks as they walk hand in hand. He's a real gentleman. Almost as if he's from another century. He treats her like a friend, even though they hold hands from times to times.

Maybe, just  _maybe_... She could fall in love with him and get over the past. The husband she will never see again.

Can she allow herself to do it? What is Eleanor going to think? Is she going to approve?

"I really love to work at the tavern..." He begins, just as they come to a stop at her and Flint's doorstep. "...and I'm so grateful to Eleanor. The opportunities she offered my sister and I... We owe her a lot and I wouldn't change a thing. But I also  _love_  our off nights."

She laughs softly at his words, shaking her head. Neither him nor Olivia are working at the tavern tonight, so his twin stayed home with Melissa and they grasped this rare opportunity with both hands.

They're both enjoying each other's company more and more every day, and maybe... Maybe that's  _all_  that really matters.

Even though Caroline feels as if he's unhappy for some reason... This feels  _right_. And she's tired of missing someone she will never have again.

Between her daughter or Richard, she would choose Eleanor a thousand times if possible.

_So what's the harm in allowing herself to be happy again?_

Smiling brightly, she finally gives in.

Elijah is taken aback at first, but soon after their lips meet, his arms are around her waist.

_She always knew he had some nice muscles..._

Feeling like a schoolgirl again, Caroline lets herself go, her fingers locking at the nape of his neck. It's liberating, thrilling and...

And there's a wave of darkness, suddenly invading her little shore of happiness.

Images flash behind her eyelids, a shudder going down her spine.

Then there's pain, and she sees it all so clearly. She knows what's about to happen, and it  _hurts_.

Breaking their kiss, she pulls away, shaking her head softly.

Frowning in concern, Elijah cups her chin. "Carol?"

Her eyes are clouded, as if she's distant from here and seeing something too horrible for her to handle. Her hands move to his shoulders and she holds on tight, as if struggling to maintain her balance.

And then she bursts into tears.

* * *

**Shih Island**

**01:30 PM**

"It feels foreign, doesn't it?"

Frowning, he looks from the lonely blonde standing by the ocean to the Asian right beside him. She offers him one of those brief smirks of hers.

"Looking at that girl and not feeling the urge to destroy her."

Teach considers her for a moment before looking at the strait, heaving a sigh. They're sitting in the shadow of a palm tree, he took the responsibility of watching over Eleanor very seriously, since Jack is busy with a fuming teenager right now.

It's a funny thing to see. Teach always knew that one was father material, but it seems that girls Carly's age are a challenge even to him.

It makes him think of the future. The  _tornado_  they'll have in their hands when that tiny bean in the tyrant's womb becomes a rebellious, angsty teen. He will be glad to help... That assuming Charles will welcome him back into their lives.

It surely won't happen... Unless he gives up on his plans to dispose of that wretched creature once the child is born.

Can he make such a sacrifice? It could be for nothing... He's sure Eleanor will manipulate everyone. If she has it her way, there will be no place for him in this little family.

And she always has things her way.

"I feel your inner conflict as if it's my own."

Again, he glances at Ching, raising one eyebrow in question. She reaches out to pat his hand affectionately.

"Don't you worry. Once Charles reads the letter... He will probably open up to you again. The thing is..." She trails off, her eyes going to Eleanor. "...will you be willing to sacrifice your ancient thirst for revenge?"

He doesn't answer.

"Don't you find it strange?"

_My, but is she **chatty**  this afternoon..._

"What?"

Happy to finally get a reaction, she points at the silent blonde.

"She's been standing there since the moment they left. If you pay close attention to her body language, you will see... The tapping of her fingertips against the skin of her arms. How she swallows hard from times to times, but what is most intriguing..."

Giving in, he looks at Eleanor again. From here, they can barely see her face, but he notices how tense she is.

"...is her submission."

At that, he scowls, wanting to meet Ching's eyes again. But suddenly, he just can't look away from that serpent.

_Now that his former lover mentioned it..._

"Think back to all the other times she was left alone with you, since the moment you stepped foot on this shore. How she never missed the opportunity to antagonize you. To take her anger out on you. And now, right when she has the perfect chance to humiliate you, right when Charles is away... She  _doesn't_."

_She's behaving like a wounded animal._

Her arms are still wrapped tightly around herself, her posture stiff. She's been watching the Ranger constantly,  _longingly_. As if suddenly, all she wants is to get out of here, right now.

Each second is a torture, a  _risk_.

He knows she's aware of his presence here. Ching is right. This girl should be yelling at him by now, even punching him again.

Probably feeling his eyes on her, Eleanor looks at him over her shoulder slowly. Teach thinks he sees fear flickering in those blue-green orbs.

As they stare at each other across the beach, a strange feeling settles in the pit of his stomach.

It's like she's a completely different person now. Her chin is still raised high, but...

She's backed down.

_Why?_

"Remember what I said to you. Remember what is truly important." He nearly flinches when the Asian traces one of his ugliest birthmarks through the leather of his coat.

_So she still remembers where each one of his ancient scars are located..._

"Remember that I  _believe_  in you, Edward."

She gets to her feet, walking away without another word. His eyes follow her until she's out of sight, then he looks at Eleanor again.

Just in time to see her turn around, finally leaving her spot in the shallow waters.

It's as if everything happens in slow motion. One second, she's rushing towards her and Charles' tent. Her stride is regal but...

_Desperate._

The next second, she's collapsing.

Her short scream of pain sends shudders down his spine and he jumps to his feet, closing the distance to her in a heartbeat. Her wide eyes stare up at him, she's clearly trying to bite back those strained grunts of agony.

Clearly, she can't get to her feet. But she still makes a move to try and crawl away from him, only to yell out. Her eyes squeeze shut and she grasps at her stomach with one hand.

That's when he sees it.

There's blood soaking through her light blue sarong, trailing down her legs. Some of it reaches the sand already, and as she meets his eyes again, hopeless and  _terrified_ , his heart sinks.

_She's losing the baby._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. I'm surprised at my own cruelty too, and it hurts me so freaking MUCH to write this situation. But it's all happening for a reason, the miscarriage is supposed to represent something really important for our favorite lovebirds in the next chapter, so yeah... Sorry? Please just trust me, I know we're going through a tough path right now, but I swear there's a beautiful, beautiful rainbow waiting for them after the storm passes.
> 
> Sorry again. There will be a baby arc. I promise. Very soon... Just not right now.


End file.
